007: CAT
"Oh, are you shitting me? It's fluffy and it's adorable." Satero held the stray cat up, bringing it face-to-face with Corosa. Judging by the cat's expression, it was just as displeased by this treatment as Corosa was.
"Somehow, you're the last person I'd have expected that from." Corosa took a step back as the cat mewled.
"Hey, I like cats. And dogs. And other animals of all shapes and sizes." Satero put the cat down and gave it one of those rough but affectionate rubs that Corosa had never mastered. Corosa was the sort of person who poked furry things from as far away as possible, and hoped that the thing's owner would take it away soon.
Doubly so in this case. Corosa had a feeling that the 'thing' in question was staring at his amputated arm and sizing him up for dinner. Contrary to what he thought, it dropped the evil look and adopted a disdained manner instead, licking one paw and finally padding away to disappear further down the road.
"Alright, cat's gone, don't worry, it ain't going to tear your throat out." Now that the cat was no longer present to paw at, Satero settled for ruffling Corosa's hair instead. "Now what's this shit you're giving me about not getting any closer?"
Corosa ducked and took another step back. "Prontera's the place I mentioned before." And he'd rather not get too close again. If he could see the road to Prontera, then he was too close already.
"What? What happened there? Oh, it's back." Satero momentarily dropped his questioning to sweep the cat up off the ground again. This time, thankfully, he did not insist that Corosa cuddle it as well. That was for the best. The cat had something small and bloody in its mouth. The only thing Satero did about it was to glance down, shrug, and then go back to rubbing the cat's head.
The cat was little more than a clump of off-white fur. Add to that a squashed-in face, too-sharp claws, and a missing eye, and it was the downright evilest thing that Corosa had ever seen.
"So, what's wrong with Prontera?" The cat pawed at Satero's arm and he let it down again. It curled up at his feet and began the process of playing with the remains of its prey.
Corosa watched it, vaguely wondering what sort of pleasure it derived from batting around bloodied bits and pieces. "Because of that thing," he said.
Satero laughed. "Well, it reminds me of you."
"What?" Corosa blinked at the cat. He could find no resemblance whatsoever.
"Another amputee, apparently." Satero squatted down and prodded its stump of a tail. The cat flicked it away.
"I hardly think that's much to grieve over." Corosa set his case down and sat on it, with his back to the road.
Satero shrugged and sat back as well, stretching his legs out in front of him. The soles of his boots rested against the edge of Corosa's case. "Honestly now. Why not Prontera? Can't be all that bad, there's thousands of people living and dying there."
"All that life does strange things to a city." Or at least Corosa thought so.
"Hn." Satero pulled at his lip, staring at Corosa with narrowed eyes. There was an unsettling similarity between his look and the cat's. "Like?"
"It..." He trailed off, then corrected himself. "I don't know."
But Corosa knew as soon as he'd said that first word, he was in trouble. Just for the slightest moment he'd sounded like it was possible to explain. And Satero was going to latch on to that.
However, Satero did not say anything more until the cat suddenly stood up and stalked off again. The action seemed to waken him.
"Why won't ya talk about, anyway? I think you're old enough to know that it's no use keeping a secret once someone knows you've got one."
Corosa scowled. He knew that he was at least old enough to know he was coming across as quite immature. But he could find no way of putting his story in such a way that it would not send him hurtling back through that hall of memories.
"I mean, if Prontera's where ya come from, that's where we oughta start," said Satero.
"What about you?" Corosa asked, picking at the linen wrapped around the stump of his right arm. The bandages had just been changed; neither of them were quite sure when they could be taken off completely, so they kept them on just to be on the safe side.
Satero shook his hair out of his eyes. "Don't come from nowhere, really. My family was always on the move. Never found a place they liked. Was born in Prontera, though. Didn't stay long."
"How long?" Corosa asked.
"Huh. Year or two, maybe. Don't remember anythin' about it." Satero started to fish around in his pockets, but apparently didn't find what he was looking for. He blew out his cheeks when his search came up empty-handed.
"Who were your parents?" Corosa asked. If Satero had only been there for a year or two, it wasn't likely that anyone Corosa knew would have mentioned the mastersmith's family, but it was worth a shot. Just to see if anything jogged a memory.
"Rachra and Elya Othara. Didn't love each other all that much, but they got on well enough." Satero shrugged. "Mother was a merchant, father was a blacksmith. Ringing any bells?"
"No." Neither the first nor last names sounded familiar.
"Eh. That's what I thought." Satero picked up a twig and chewed on its end. "So, back to this Prontera thing. This ain't going to work out if you refuse to come."
Corosa looked back at the road. "This is too close already."
"Yeah, that's the problem right there. I'm not leaving you out here alone--"
Corosa cut him off. "I'm hardly dependent on you." He was fully capable of taking care of himself, and had been doing exactly that for almost all of thirty-two years.
Satero spat the twig out. "Hah. I'd wager on that. With that arm?"
"Yes."
"Hell, whatever, that's not the point. The thing is, it's gonna be damn hard for me to figure things out if you won't come along." Satero's voice became noticeably sharper.
Corosa allowed himself to turn around and meet Satero's stare. "I'm not getting any closer than this."
Satero sighed and put a hand over his eyes. "Goddammit, why the hell not?"
Dead silence reigned.
Corosa was still trying to formulate a response when the sound of mewling reached their ears. They both looked up and saw the cat once more, sitting a few yards away, making pitiful noises at them.
"...Oy. Cat. Get me a cigarette, will ya? ...Oh, fine. Stupid thing." The cat had walked off as soon as Satero started talking.
Corosa just wished it would stop coming back. Very much like Satero's constant questioning of his past.
"It's none of your concern," he said, finally answering Satero. It was far from a satisfactory answer, but it was the only one that worked.
"Say that again. I can barely hear you over the sound of that there grasshopper a thousand fucking miles away."
"I'm not stopping you from going into Prontera," Corosa said, though that hadn't been his original answer. "But you can do it without me."
"What, and then come back and find that you've lost a fucking leg, too? Maybe this time it'll be a mutant pori--"
"No."
There was apparently something in Corosa's voice that made Satero shut up. What could have become a full-blown fight trailed off into contemplative silence. Eventually Satero stood up and took a few paces away, with his back towards Corosa.
By the time Satero turned around, the forest's birdsong had started up again.
"Here," the mastersmith said, grinning. "Make you a deal. If you can catch that cat by the end of today, I'll leave ya alone about Prontera and go there myself. Otherwise I'm taking you with me, even if I gotta knock you out to do it."
"What?" Corosa was not amused in the least.
"You're gonna have to get over this thing of yours eventually," Satero said.
"What?" Corosa asked again, before realizing how much of an idiot he sounded.
Satero answered before he could correct himself. "The thing, you know, with the whole not-going-into-cities bit." He was speaking more slowly than before. Probably an effect of him controlling his temper.
Corosa made note of that and did his best to control his own, but he could not help but still feel irritable. "I've been handling things well enough without having to overcome that."
"Yeah? So how the fuck did you lose your arm in the first--" Satero clamped his mouth shut and jammed his hands into his pockets. Then he continued in a calmer manner. "If you hadn't been such an ass about going into Izlude, this wouldn't have happened."
Corosa vaguely recalled an overheard conversation. Something about the extent of his injury being due to lingering too long in the desert. But he was not sure whether the whole thing had been a figment of his imagination, and chose not to bring it up in self-defense.
Satero's eyes flickered towards the battleaxe he carried around with him. It was a monster of a weapon, seemingly too big for even someone of Satero's size to wield. Yet somehow, he managed it. Corosa sometimes wondered why the man's arms hadn't fallen off yet.
Satero walked over to his weapon. "Hey, listen, if you don't take me up on my bet I'll fucking knock you out anyway."
"That's hardly fair," Corosa said, scratching his shoulder and narrowing his eyes at Satero. His phantom arm was starting to kick in stronger than before. This time it hurt.
"Life's a bitch." Satero picked up his axe and drove the blade into the ground, leaning on the shaft. "More than that, I'm a bitch. Don't think I'll do it? I will. Maybe I won't have to knock ya out but I'll get you to that damn city whether ya like it or not."
Corosa did not take his eyes off Satero and did a quick comparison of the two of them. Satero was healthier, stronger, and was quite willing to back up his words. All of that was nullified if Corosa chose to pull out a gun and fire on him. But that was at the extreme. Last resort. Corosa did not mean to shoot to kill. But even so, any shot would be likely to end up in Satero's death, whether from blood loss or infection, and Corosa didn't want the mastersmith's chances of survival hinging on the chance that a priest would wander by.
But if it came to that...
Corosa was not going to take a step closer to Prontera, no matter what happened.
He groped for his handgun as he stood up. "I'll find your cat."
Satero looked between the gun and Corosa. "Don't shoot him. That won't count."