The sounds of dragging feet and chains took an oddly percussive form, like they were the rolling snares for the current funeral procession.

Crane moved behind lattice shadows—every intermittent glimpse between the ill-patterned prison bars showed whatever was happening outside like a staggered montage. The cortege of executees and their convict had barely passed the midpoint of the dungeon. Like a defiant anchor, the rigid fox had impressively hindered their movement

Some tickling growth began crawling inside Crane's stomach. He squeezed his side stubbornly, offsetting the discomfort with a more tangible, but certainly less demoralizing, pain. It was difficult to prescribe particular feelings to his guiddiness, but whatever it was had him stalling any further measures-and it was only a matter of time before their audience moved out of the antechamber.

Crane finally signaled to his companion. "Hey, I think we better star-"

A blast of pain shot through the bird's face, pressure exploded on all his sides. His body coiled forwards ensuingly, like the latent motion of an outstretched spring slinging shut towards its end. The greatest colossal force had just applied itself on the back of his neck, continuing to stuff him face-first into the barred cell.

"Five cheers and a slap on the wrist for you now!" Ju Lung leaned to his ear. "Take a good look at that fox motherfucker, because he looks exactly like us in our future. The future that you have created."

Crane tried lifting himself up but only mustered little clearance. Indignant, he flopped. Stupid bear idiot! Was it too hard to follow-up a plan of action with a little bit of grace? Did he have to put him in this much goddamn pain?

"Well?" Ju Lung jostled the bird, prompting him back into the act.

"What do you want me to say! That I'm sorry?" Crane spat, his voice loaded with a loud hoarseness, his frustration visceral.

"No. A sorry means shit and bull to me."

The once chilled antechamber climate was quickly ventilated by the renewal of curious energy-possessed by it, the bovine guards drove their torches towards the cells, creating an even more pronounced spotlight on the disturbance. Lifting an old hand, the yak adjourned the small march. The clanging of chains in motion silenced.

Ju Lung smirked, triumphant; it was only after delayed judgement that he quickly covered the organicness with a diversionary growl—he yanked Crane to his face in an extra measure of exaggeration. "I'll have you know a thing or two about suffering before you get to experience this one, merciful, death."

"This isn't the way darn it!" Crane choked, the tip of his talons veinly reaching for ground. "We can work this out."

"We can't!" Ju Lung leveraged his victim overhead, already too committed to his performance to pick out a less frightening set of events. "Now suffer, cocksucker!" Spinning Crane in a wide axis, the bear only needed a few heavy rotations before the movement above him turned into a halo-like blur. The simple release of his feathery teammate would be as good as a prime throw, the centripetal force culminating to this very moment. And so, Crane was pitched back into the darkness, darting like a rocket.

Exploding dirt, shattered stone.

A crunch reverberated throughout the dungeon, cracking like thunder. Definitely some injury.

The dust surrounding the impact site settled slowly, but the after-silence was quick to replace the implicit noise. Cluelessness heightened the bystanders' senses as they shuffled closer inch by inch.

Gently flopping forward, Crane planted himself right into the light to be discerned. "Myyyyy wiiiiiiiing!" He cradled himself side to side, his more mobile appendage gliding across the fractured one, hesitant of whether to brace it completely or let it fall apart. "My…"

Ju Lung crept deliberately. "Yeah right. Whine all you want. I ain't done yet. I'll fold you one limb at a time, gently—like origami, until I turn you into a damn paper crane."

"Enough you." The surveilling yak, a prominently much larger opponent to the already gargantuan bear, stretched an arm inside to pull him back forcibly. "I find some joy in watching prisoners tear each other apart, but not as much as I do when I do it myself." With a kick on the ankle, he forced Ju Lung down to his bottom.

The bear coughed out an escaped breath. "You're pathetic, old cattle-boy! We're your last source of happiness, yeah? And there's only three of us."

"Color me sad once I kill all of you then. I have to go now, but I'll come back. Just remember, sweet, old fella, no amount of abuse you do on that bird will give you enough nerves to enter the chopping board with a proper walk, dry pants, and a straight face.."

"You're right." He muttered. "I'll enter that thing skipping, and pissing with excitement, and I'll do it with a smile."

"Hello? Friends?" An old voice croaked.

Crane arrived flushed against cell bars, immediately surveying the other side of the dungeon. It had been a while since anyone spoke. "Is there something?"

"I'm just a bit concerned... Well, no never mind. Poor choice of words. Forgive me. I think I'm slightly hopeful actually." The prisoner put a head through his cell, trying to reveal himself-but he was situated in the antechamber's darkest corner, and only his protruded muzzle could touch the slightest ray of light: the rest of him was a silhouette with formless edges. "It's a frightening thing. These guards don't know a killing blow. Their executions are gradual-they kill like a long and terrible disease, waiting for screams to turn to gurgles. Lords know how long I've been in this prison, and that's all I've been hearing…"

There was a commanding diction in the silence, and Crane didn't know whether it was thoughtfully applied-if he was meant to say something in between. He shuffled back into his own darkness, hoping to mask himself from an inching tension. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, please, be thankful that you could hear me in the first place." He broke into a phlegmy coughing fit. When he resumed, his voice trembled, dry and whisking away. "The man that they just took away? He's my brother. We should all be hearing him by now. I figured, an infinite amount of possibilities. Maybe they had given him a merciful death, but that's rather impossible. I like to think they're keeping him alive."

"And for what reason?" Ju Lung's loud voice was a stark disruption.

"One last questioning?—Perhaps… I've got no clue, and it isn't all too important." He sighed. "But, that stunt you threw, I'm starting to think it was all for a purpose. Please, whatever you're planning, I need to be a part of it."

"Of course!" Crane asserted quickly, racing against his companion's less altruistic tongue. Ju Lung deflated the hasty breath he had gathered for speech with an obvious noiseness.

"Thank you, friend." the fox continued. "And your wing, it's not truly hurt, is it?"

He lifted his formerly injured appendage; a fragmented stick fell from his armpit and struck the ground resoundly. "Nope."

The damn yak had no dramatic entrance, no reel offs, and no squandering arguments with his subordinate. They had proceeded quickly, quicker than before. All of a sudden Ju Lung was up against prison bars—binded already. And Crane came to an abrupt face to face against the younger bovine guard; chains were outstretched to him. Even just emerging out of his disorientation now took precedence over accomplishing more operative plans. Although he had foreseen these events, he forgot to consider the several rhythms at which they could have manifested. Even more unfortunately, they seemed to have transpired in the fastest way possible.

"I don't think it's going to fit." The bull had one eye closed, approximating Crane's lineaments.

"Skinny legs, and massive broken arms? You'll be waiting for some, I don't know, blacksmith seamstress to tailor something for that freak." The yak said. "Come on. He's chained by his own injury. You should be fine."

"I'll hope." Following order begrudgingly, the bovine tossed the shackles aside and brought out a bundle of keys.

A propitious glimmer caught Crane's eye as the bull jutted out the main opener from the rest of the less lustrous set. The trinkle of clanging metal rods were like wind chimes, all sorts of alluring. Once the guard inserted the key into the lock, the bird's stunted perception that had once detained his weak situational understanding in vignettes finally crystallized. Eyes widened, heartbeat accelerated. There was a sensory overload—but a precise one, which beared down on the meticulously twisting hoof of the admissioner. He extended his wings in the short time. The reeling, muscular power irresistibly felt unhatched, bound to break and come to life.

A mechanical click indicated an opened cell. Crane slammed his tensioned extremities, quick like a triggered snare. The yielded wind surged heavily against all obstructions, slow to dissipate into a terminal gyre as it thunderously swirled the round antechamber. The gate to their cell had swung open, the bull knocked far from it.

Subsisting on what's left of its garnered power, Crane quickly drew his wings back into a brief reload and immediately shot out of his cell. A sharp parabolic disk of air surrounded his spearheaded form. He hit his bovine opponent with plural forces, initially by the accompanying gust, then by his own sheer, speeding mass. The guard tottered backwards, desperate for balance and distance. Turning up and over, Crane persisted talons-first.

But when his extended claws braced for flesh, it endured instead a shattering collision against the brick wall. His feet wobbled with great amplitude, the impact traversing all to his head. At once, the world split in three before converging in a snap. His ears popped. The quick deluge of restoring sensations overtook him nauseatingly.

It seemed that the supposed rookie guard could actually dodge.

Crane fell back, immediately bounding sideways to avoid a succeeding ambush, the frantic fluttering of his wings allowing him every bit of separation. Sure enough, the bull almost rammed himself into his original spot. But the nimble retreat only gave a second of respite. With a surprisingly fleet of foot, his opponent took an angled detour to the correct vicinity.

Ahhhh shit! Crane brandished his wings in splice formations—an honest kung fu attempt. At such speeds, the turbine of his appendages made an illusory force field around him. But for all the adrenaline and desperation that reinforced the bird's strength, even his last recourse was pathetically maladaptive. The bull breached every one of his defenses by simply diving head first, right into his frail chest. The prang sent him backwards, and only his screeching talons kept him aground.

Crane gawked, feeling his insides invert. Dammit! I can't fight this guy! Immediately lightheaded and breathless, the uneasy growth in his stomach came festering all over him once more. He had to retreat—any positional advantage, any sort of time to think, was all he desperately needed. Sending his wings down just before his opponent reached him, the avian soared for the dungeon's mezzanine. He snapped off the rope ladder that led up to his elevation and perched on the railings. Gazing broadly, he began to take in everything at once.

From the other side, Ju Lung and the yak battled contiguously between the chamber bars. It seemed that the bear had locked himself back into the cell and was now playing a dangerous game of whack-a-mole as his adversary reached his hand inside from various angles.

"Ouch! You errr. Stop it you stupid bear."

Ju Lung brought a fist down towards the outstretched hooves. "I'll give that a thought!"

Knowing they would continue to preoccupy each other, Crane finally observed the intermediate playing field from directly down below. The bull had drawn back to the dungeon's armaments, all the way to a dim corner; whatever it was he was retrieving, it would certainly lead more to his disadvantage. If he wanted this to fair out, he might as well dynamically game the bull with the same level of resourcefulness.

A calling horn was blasted.

Ahh well isn't this just a crap and a half... Time has finally declared its limits.

Crane dismounted from his perch, looking around the mizzazine for anything mildly scavengable. Plenty of wood scraps were strewn about—none seemed to have any combative advantage. Regardless, he loosened one of his belt garments and scooped up some saw dust that had been dispensed by the considerable pile-up. After moments of further searching, he found ropes on the far side and immediately scrambled for it.

"Get down here you coward!" The bull yelled.

Just behind Crane's trail, some large projectile hurtled across the deck and took out nearly half of the platform. Everything shook. The flailing bird grabbed for the ropes and hugged it against his breast; he turned around, back pressed against the wall. The crater was only inches beyond him.

This was the very last of his retreat.

"Okay okay what else what else what else." He broomed a talon wildly across the surrounding clutter before laying it upon several bricks. This can work. This can definitely work. After collapsing to his knees and sorting all materials, the bird began tying rope ends, attaching the stones, quickly forging some weaponized compound. A long-time janitorial experience allowed for his knotting efficiency. Upon finishing, he whipped the item around his shoulder, feeling the weight all on his chest. When he stood, he stumbled.

Oh god.

The bird reheaved the slipping ropes back to where they gripped. "Alright Crane, it's time to man up. Man up! Ugh..." He had quickly come to accept that any muttered word of encouragement, no matter how self-contrived and bullshit it was, would distract him from the fact that he was indeed equipping himself with shit that was literally making him fall apart. Even the riskiest, most far-fetched gambits were substantiated with some logic—what the hell was he even doing? "You know what? Just face your fears, and spit at it. Yeah, I'll definitely do that. I'll spit at it!"

In the next second, the avian had burst out of his refuge, renewed by his own apparent self-compromise—there were now much more profound goals ahead other than just defeating the bull: it was the excellence of self.

He circled the arena from up high, watching his enemy approach the middle of the chamber, wielding a spear. The guard widened his arms in demonstration of fortitude. "It really isn't very hard to get down here."

"As you wish." Crane barrelled downwards, sharply transitioning into horizontal flight once in low altitude. The sort of pressurized speed formed streamlines around his pinions. Right as his opponent thrusted the spear at his projected form, the bird flipped into an extreme reversal before the very blade and used his trebuchet-like motion to deploy from his feet the parcel of dust.

Owing to his aggressive lunging being met with sudden absence, the bull stumbled forwards. Dexterous footwork had allowed him immediate balance, but absolute recovery was now very far-off; it proved futile when he rubbed a hoof across his wood-laden eyelids. "Damn caught me alright." Repositioning his spear closer to his chest, the bull awaited with attentive ears.

Crane kept his distance, reaching over his shoulders slowly. Despite his advantage, there was an obvious threat that was laying in wait, and it constricted his movement nearly just as much as the blind bovine. Yeah, you annoying prick. You just stay right there... Once his grasp on the meteor rope was ensured, he immediately hastened, swinging the weapon curvedly at the bull's feet.

As it wrapped all around his knees, the guard's movements were reduced to minimal teetering. But in those moments, from an almost incredible sonical sense, he faced the bird's precise location and threw the spear right at his feathered head. The remainder of his balance was sacrificed.

A fatal move, if it was not for the avian's coiling neck. He quickly rebounded from the compression, pushing ahead with a taught leg forward. The tightly knuckled talons met the bull's face, finally finishing him off.

"Great job Crane!" Ju Lung hollered for his cell. He had long since rendered his own opponent completely immobile—the yak's arm was stuck in the bar grills, entangled by the chains that were once on the bear but were now attached to one of the hooks on the back wall. By some miracle, he managed all this.

The bear began picking at the lock. "We gotta get out quick. Through the west wing I'm thinking. That's how I got out last time. Guards go in the other way." Once his prison door burst open, he tossed the keys to Crane and hustled across the dungeon.

The fox reintroduced himself timidly, rattling the bars a little. "Hey. I'm very glad you're okay. But please, don't forget about me."

Crane considered the keys on his wing, prompting himself to move from his current inertia. But while he was still by the bull, an undismissable offer presented itself. "Wait, hold on." Bending over and hacking away, the bird built himself up until he practically regurgitated a singular wad of drool that slowly reached the ground adjacent to the fallen beast.

The bear was already by the exit. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I just spat at my fears." Crane finally moved to the remaining prisoner, feeling wholly reaffirmed.

The unlocking process proved to be ridiculously cumbersome-out of some sort of untimely humbling from the universe. As the bird became more clumsy with the keys, his surge of confidence swiftly waned away. Everyone was waiting. He hid his humiliation in a self-conscious laugh.

Finally, the bolts gave. "Heh, there you go..."

"Oh thank you, thank you." The fox scampered out, heading to the end of the antechamber opposite to the supposed west wing.

"Hey!" Crane tried reaching out for him. "We have to go that way."

Acknowledging this, the old rascal slowed from his short, frantic staggers to long, measured strides—although his approach to the door never truly stopped. He was decisive. "I have to save my brother."

"You'll end up back here."

"Oh I'm quite sure I won't ever see this place again. It's either death or something much better. My brother, he's important to this city's cause, no matter how torn up it is. And to me, he's the only thing left. If you're part of the commitment, perhaps you can come. Better our chances. For now, I bid you farewell. Thank you for freeing me."

And just like that, he withdrew completely from the antechamber.

"Bullshit." Ju Lung groaned. "Let's go. Guards here aren't turtles y'know."

Crane peaked behind the opened door the fox just fled out of. He had disappeared already. Shadows of nearing guards extended on the walls of some far-off perpendicular hallway. "But Ju Lung..." Crane half-expected for a halting, snarky response. When the bird turned, the bear was gone too.

They were exiting out of some culvert, thoroughly drenched in some of the nastiest possible substances with the most questionable consistencies. Crane wanted to puke; somehow this was the preferable way of out.

There was the great blue ahead—the open world, with trees and grass. A breeze kissed his face when he made it to the very cusps.

As much as he wanted to unload himself from the canal right then and there, the prudent bird glimpsed first at the sky, poking a timid head out: it was out of that extraordinary compulsion that a platoon of gliding hawks coincided with his line of sight. His head ducked back into the overhang. They were surely out looking for them.

Something to behold. With heavy sacks slung around their sleazy necks, they seemed like a flock storks on regular daycare rotation—no harm, no matter. But of course they weren't dropping babies, and those sacks were probably filled with a generous amount of antipersonnel bombs—the same things that nearly shredded them inside that traumatizing pagoda.

"What fuck is this? Hello? You're acting like a cork on a bottle of piss right now, and I'm dying in it!" A hand landed on Crane's bottom, pushing him all the way through. Truly desperate, the bear came squeezing outwards immediately after him, the concrete walls of the culvert cracking open to accommodate his greater breadth. It was only after squeezing his diaphragm with an immense inhalation that he was able pop out. Spillage flowed freely around him. "Finally!" He croaked. "A nice volume of air, and one that's not half occupied by bird ass."

"You're the one who insisted I go first." Crane had already retreated under some foliage, still completely aware of the danger above. His companion, by contrast, took his sweet, unworried time basking in the muk. At this point, he couldn't even bother calling him out for it. "Speaking of which—and I just wanted to know-you mentioned you managed to escape out of the prison some time ago."

"Yes." The bear groaned, knowing that this was the start of some implication. "I did do that."

In the desperate and long moments they were navigating out of the city's upper crust through its exemplary, but disgusting network of watercourses, the bird had time to brood over certain misalliances. He squinted his eyes, observing every twitch of movement the bear made. "How many times? Me, the five… we weren't truly your first, huh?"

Ju Lung crawled out of the sewage puddle, progressing slowly into a bipedal staggering as he now made his way towards him. "I once had other pals, yes. And they were smart. Helped me, and I guess themselves, out of stuff like this. You're thinking some things, I know—but there's more people dead in this city than people who are close to dead. Most of my pals died their own way, and their own way only-it's got nothing to do with me."

And yet you're still alive, the dumbest of the bunch.

"I've had enough." Ju Lung lifted Crane by his wing, propping him back to his feet. "I know a depot filled with caravans. We've got a long way to go, so I'm thinking we're gonna need some wheels. If we're lucky, we might be able to rent out a tiny little rickshaw that has a personal shower, double bathtub. Get ourselves all squeaky."

"I don't think those exist."

Crane was right.

When they got there, there unfortunately was not any sort of transportation unit with a personal shower. Instead, among the burdonous smog and heaps of ash that were once warehouses and caravan service stations, they found only a singular rickshaw that met them way below their standards—even Crane's relatively pessimistic one; the best facility it had to offer was one crooked wheel.

Propped at an acute tilt and while it was being pulled, the cart dug the bald-ended part of its axle into deep dirt trenches, which served as a constant break —whether the coachman wanted it there or not.

Ju Lung didn't care for its lack of functionality; in fact, he was very much its current passenger.

And Crane was the one motorizing the dilapidated thing.

He had straight away learned to start counting the wheel's every lopsided rotation, as the ear-breaking gritting when the tire revolved across a certain point had created ordinal separation like the perfect odometer-it had sooner reached its thousandth turn. This mind-numbing repetition of numbers was the only thing keeping him sane while heaving the entire cart up the backwood's steep inclines. Eyes wedded on the dirt ground, he wondered how long until the roads faded off and he would have to pull the useless sack of meat that was Ju Lung through literal rocks and underbrush.

This was far from a misalliance; it was slavery.

The bear abruptly rose from his seat, snapping fingers for Crane's attention. "Hey… hey."

Yeah whatever dude. Please just shut up already.

"Hey!" The bear was insistent.

In the next second, Crane's once vertical structure wrapped around some jutted out floorboards. Let loose, the trailing rickshaw collided into him, only coming into a full stop after a substantial recoil.

"HAH! Idiot. Welp. I mean one upside to being absolutely disabled is having the ability to park anywhere you want, am I right?" Ju Lung alighted the carriage, hopping over Crane and on to the deck. Loud, terrible creaks. Almost like a mattress, the rotting floorboards bent malleably underneath the bear's weight.

Crane paddled himself across the elevated platform, slowly pulling his dangling legs up. The tightness in his muscles was utterly exhausted. It took him a while to stand on his feet, but once he did, he found that collapsing on the building's rickety wall braced a comfortable amount of his body weight. "Where…" He drew in a struggling breath, "where are we?"

They were currently standing on the patio of some elastic, moss-rashed wooden hut. Surrounding the house from all sides were backyards upon backyards of greenery. Afar, an out-building had been completely trounced by the forests, which only continued to encroach what's left of the place's silt-marked acres.

When Ju Lung didn't answer in time, Crane began to assume bigger things. Isolated and in the middle of the woods? "So this is it. This is where you kill me."

"No you idiot." The bear promptly placed a hand on the bird's back, demanding him forwards. "If I wanted it, I would have done it. This is actually quite a place. Sweet and old. It's called Whore's House, Home of the Horses."

The locution required a thorough breakdown of words, but the young avian realized it soon enough after reiterating it breathily. Panicked energy tickled his sinews anew—his muscles weren't so tired anymore. "Wait, wait what? I can't go in there! My mom-"

"Fuck ya mom! And plus it isn't what it used to be. You'll still be seeing bitches, but at least they won't be dancing!" Ju Lung peeked through shattered windows, only finding a vacant vestibule inside.

"Hold on, hey! Hold on I said." The bird hardened his talons against the deck, seeking purchase. Wood splintered before his toes. When he realized no amount of his force would ever develop a successful impediment, he fought by expression once more. "Hey can you stop! What even is this, why are we here?"

Pushing harder, the bear threw him straight inside the broken opening. "It's just a transit agency dammit. Now tell me if you're still alive in there."

"Yeah, I'm still alive." Crane groaned. The entrance right behind him, although agape, had not allowed the wide expanse of broad daylight to flood inside. Ahead was a terrifying journey. It's like he's been hedged in by some kind of fishtank that completely fragmented the light from the dark. The whole place was a vacuum of obscure dimensions, only the small surface of floor that he felt under his feet was directly palpable. He could take one more step forward and quite possibly fall in an endless void.

"Outsider!" A booming, feminine voice called from his left. "Take action now. Step inwards, or leave, and never come back."

The echoes aroused the feathers along his spine with a weird, titillating sensation. This is definitely where I die. "Yeah, you know what. I think I'm choosing the latter." Unhindered by no hesitation, Crane turned towards the entrance.

"Hey hey what the hell do you think you're doing." Ju Lung found it the best time to come inside and intervene on the bird's path. "We're going in, ladies. Prepare you witcheries and magicry for this gang of patriarchy."

"Menace!"

"To society!"

"Hey!" Crane began stumbling deeper and deeper, jostled by Ju Lung. The bear had obviously taken to him just for his capacity to become experimental fodder, but now that he was truly being brought down to nothing but bait, everything turned terrifying. In a constant search for new footing, he finally mislayed his legs and fell to the ground.

That must have activated something— sources of light lit up from all sides. After the intense flash of yellow brightness died away from Crane's renewed sights, a second wave of terror immediately anguished him. Casted under bare split-lights were several horse faces, all moving down upon him. He bounced into a stand and scrambled rearwards. There was a lifeless, bobless gait in their approach, as if they were merely hovering. The bird accelerated even more, up until he was pressed against an equally cornered Ju Lung.

They began turning in sync, trying all at once to come up against and match the significantly higher number of combatants that were encompassing them.

The horses stopped drawing closer.

"What is it that you want Ju Lung." One horse entered through the fortification of women. With all sorts of wrinkled disfigurement running down her long, meek, face, she seemed to have been the oldest.

"I'm actually here for two things-"

"Spit."

He cupped his hands gingerly, trying to ease her firmness with foolish tender. "Okay, first, I would like for you to be my messenger—look for Tung or Rushi, if they ever enter the city again. And tell them…" He cleared his throat. "Tell them that we are in Mudi Zhen."

Her cataract eyes widened momentarily. "I suppose I can allow that to happen. The first request that is. Ju Lung, you know we've stopped that business a long time ago."

"But, I have a very good rea-"

"Give up. You have tried the wildest things and received the most insignificant outcomes." The old horse readjusted her spectacles up her extended snout with a slow, trembling hoof. And afterwards, in such unhurried continuation of personal procedure, she smacked her barely mobile lips together to moisten them. The awaiting silence had not changed her conviction—at the end she remained indifferent to the awkwardness she just caused. "Now, let us talk about money."

"Tung," he proposed immediately, "he will pay you by the end-"

"I do not like the sound of this, Ju Lung."

"Look I don't have anything with me at the moment dammit."

"We do not work without the money upfront."

"Fuck the money!" The bear suddenly laid out his arms, open for suggestion; he smacked a horse muzzle accidentally. "Doesn't any of you want to do it to save the world, eh? Doesn't that sound good?"

Oh geez. Even to Crane that sounded far-fetched. Embarrassment reeked onto him just by proximity. When looking around, he saw there was not a single horse lady drawn to his propounding. In fact, the part where he practically backhanded one of them made them appear even more mad. He lowered the brim of his hat.

The bear didn't seem to read the room. "Okay okay how about this. If any one of you wants to save the world, just raise your legs."

They were kicked out.

"Well…" Ju Lung was laying flat on his back, defeated at the moment. "In my defense, I meant to say hands instead of legs."

"Geographically and verbally, those two are pretty far apart."

"I know. But it was a whore house. How am I not supposed to say something completely inappropriate."

"I don't know man." Crane was flattened right beside him. The world had finally stopped being so restless once he was thrown at the very spot. Even the trees and wind came at a standstill. Maybe he has come to accept the misfortunes that set upon his adventures much too often, and that has granted him peace.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Clucks —that was our only shot." Ju Lung chuckled. "We might be able to force out a new one though."

The bear's blatant idiotness in the constant face of defeat had somehow ruined Crane's newfound acceptance. His face soured, unbridled words formed a clog in his throat.

Just then, a rustle in the bushes grabbed both their attention, expelling all heat at once. A young horse appeared no further from the dense part of the woods, gesturing for them to come.

"Who's that?" Crane asked.

"Mingxia's daughter, one of the workers in that weird sisterhood in there. I don't know why she's alone, they usually come in twos. Might be a trap."

The bird stood up, staggering forwards. "Then let's find out."

The peculiar horse pulled away from the timberline as Crane followed. He quickened his pace in adjustment, but she continued to lead along at an equally increasing speed. Hell she was fast- sinous cables of roots and underbrush infested the forest grounds, but she seemed to be treading along then like they weren't there. By the time she finally allowed him to close distance, they were in a swampy outlet deep in the forests.

The girl stood by some wooden heap of what seemed to be the remainder of a dock. While everything was still, Crane had a few moments to observe her.

The poor delinquent thing was built in extreme and awkward disproportions-much like himself. Big eyes occupied half her face. Her snout was overdrawn, heavy enough to irrepressibly keep her head tilted downwards. Under much pressure, her inordinate knees buckled inwards, structured between lanky legs.

"You." Her voice was surprisingly low-pitched. "What's your name?"

"Ugh… Crane."

"Crane?"

"Yeah." He squeezed into his shoulders. Even interacting with kids felt like an interrogation. "That's just it…"

Her once firm countenance quickly brightened. "I like that name! I think it sounds kind of stupid, but hey, it's unique!"

"Thanks. And, you I guess?"

"Huifen. Nice to be acquainted."

Ju Lung came falling into the scene, bounding uncontrollably from uphill. He slid by their feet-face first in the mud.

"And you?" The horse remained impassive to the spectacle. "What's your name?"

The bear lifted his head from the ground. "We've known each other for five years, little girl."

"I know! I was just playing. Ugh…" In an ever increasing intensity, Huifen's face lightened once more. "Oh! Anyways, here's what I've got for you guys." She skipped towards some brown tarp that had previously remained entirely camouflaged to both outsiders—despite its obvious size. Pulling it down, she revealed an unceremonious, worn-down boat. "I've heard what's been said in the tavern. They may not be able to help you guys, but you know what-?" Promptly, she started pushing the vessel to the shoreline; Crane rushed over to help her. "I want to. I really really do."

"Do you even know the way?" Ju Lung was not beguiled by her insistence.

"I think so! I've travelled there a couple of times with Ma. I sort of remember the map."

"That's reassuring."

"Oh come on!" Empowered by fleeting irritance, the girl alone pushed the boat the final distance: it slipped down the shore. The sudden negation of opposite force made Crane fall forward. "We'll be speeding into Mudi Zhen in no time, I promise. Now please! All aboard! Get yourselves situated."

After standing up with bad grace, Crane stood idly and waited for Ju Lung's response. While the bear wasn't exactly acting in due diligence, there was no other person with a more relevant course of action to ascertain much of his own efforts from. But was this truly it? They were changing course in every single instance, and it seemed that this was too fast of a development. A little rest helped.

Regardless, Ju Lung popped right in.

The straightforwardness of the action was almost offensive to all the thoughts the bird had in those few long seconds. Well damn. Seize the damn day then.

Begrudgingly, he followed suit.

When everyone was settled, Huifen plied the rows to completely wrench them off the shore. The departure was awkwardly slow, what with the waters all stagnant. It took several misguided paddles and awkward turnabouts for the girl to finally get the boat up to good speed and in stable bearing.

Soon enough, they were coasting across the murky plane.

"So…" Awkward silence forced the giddy horse to prompt a conversation. She hauled the paddles back into the boat, finally able to relax. "What are you guys up to? Why do you want to go to Mudi Zhen?"

Ju Lung considered the talking point. "Eh… just a modest adventure kid. We found something interesting in the foreman's palace-"

"Really? How? How'd you get inside?" She perked up immediately.

"Clucks over here. He's a good one, knows how to get us out. And get us in. And did you know he's from the Jade Palace?"

"Really?"

"You tell her Crane."

All this time, the bird had drifted so far apart from their immediate presence that it took a slap on the back from Ju Lung to finally acknowledge the current discussion. His eyes wandered back to the horse. "Oh yeah, I'm from there. But, not really? I mean, I just went there. Then I moved out, now I'm here-"

"Really! Oh geez. So you're a kung fu warrior? A master? Have you met Oogway-he's the ultimate kung fu guy right? How's that like?" With glimmering eyes and an aggressive lean-in towards Crane, it seemed that the horse was formulating a whole backlog of questions and was only waiting for the answerer to clear them in bulk. She couldn't help but put one more begging question out there. "Can you give me merch? I honestly love this group called The Deathly Soldiers. They're in Spirit Valley-it's close by. I only liked them because that's the only kung fu merchandise they have here."

"Look, uhm, Huifen?" Crane chuckled nervously, moving away from her probing face. "I really appreciate the enthusiasm, but I'm really not a big deal. I've been a student there for literally two days."

"Just two days? Oh man! I thought you were cool." She fell back to her seat, feet flailing upon landing.

"Hey. That's kind of insulting."

She giggled before fully surrendering into a disappointed sigh. "So… you really aren't some rad warrior?"

"I mean, I can fight?" In expense of such an assertion, Crane's shoulder's grew rigid. "That counts as something."

"Personally, I don't see a difference." Ju Lung moved downwards so that he was beside the bird. The considerable displacement shook the entire boat.

"Between a fighter and a warrior?" Huifen steadied the vessel by shifting to the other side. "Oh no, I think there's a big difference in intent!"

"And what is it? Is being a warrior complex? Morality far more superior to my understanding?" The bear taunted.

"I don't think so. Quite the opposite actually-for me. The fighters in the underworld?-they all have their reasons. But a warrior is simple right? You just save a lot of people. And then, people start loving you! Hihi."

Crane understood her nativity, but he started to wonder how young she truly was. Meandering away from the scene once more and looking downwards, he observed the boat rift apart the film of algae surrounding them. In those few moments where water was clear from all the muk and ripples-there he was.

"Ehh. I think you oughta pick up a philosophy book." Ju Lung said.

Huifen rolled her eyes. "My theory."

"It sucks."

"Thanks idiot." She kicked his shin, but it was weak and brought out no reaction. "Hey, while we're talking about theories that suck, I think I've finally got one for your arm."

"Shoot."

"Okay so you know how you're kind of stupid?"

"No, I never knew that."

"Of course you didn't: you're a dummy. Anyways, you probably did something dumb when the army reserves were still occupying our city-like steal something y'know. They chopped people's thumbs off for doing that right? Maybe they got lazy, so instead of chopping both your thumbs, they just took your hand. Fair and square. And now you're doing all this crazy work because it will all lead up to you somehow catching the guy who took your arm away. The end."

Ju Lung burst into laughter, the echoes bouncing all over the forest. "First of all, fucking kid, that story, compared to the real deal? Boring. Also, this whole thing that I'm doing isn't a revenge plot. Okay? Because, damn, one more 'arm for a leg' type of trade, and I won't be able to jack off."

"Ugh. Ju Lung I'm tired of your amputation jokes." She yelled. "How many more until you finally run out of them?"

"Oh don't you worry about running out. I've got a lot more jokes up my sleeve because there isn't a goddamn hand in there to occupy it."

A/N

HEY. Thanks for reading this! I know there's a massive cut in the escape scene. How the hell did they go from the prison to some sewage system? Unfortunately, I can't afford any more long sequences because I realized that this story is barely getting started. I need to rush a little bit cuz I really don't want to be turning 40 when I'm finally at the story's midpoint. XD

Anyways, thanks again to The Dragon Chronicle for beta reading the chapter. He's been a great supporter and I wouldn't have been able to develop my writing skills as much if it wasn't for him. Additionally, I'd like to thank TiDrags for the cover art! She's an extremely talented artist. And of course, mega thanks to all the people who are supporting me on this, couldn't have done it without you guys.

Please leave a review! I am literally so thirsty for them. I am down bad for reviews.