Hunted|Haunted - Chapter 22 - Journey's End

All that dealing with a near-death experience knocked Toma right out, so Harvey put him in a bag tied to the broom and commanded it to float after them.

— So what's Miina's problem? — Cogs asked. Who knows, maybe he’ll have to drag Nex from something like that too.

— Counterfeit box dye and pulp erotic novels.

— I mean, why is she like that?

— Ah, she's just at that age. Well, that, and she tries to outrebel me for like a decade now.

— Yeah, burning down a courthouse is hard to outrebel.

— Nah, you don't know whack.

— Tove, what did you do?

— I'll let you guess, that's more fun.

— Tove, what did you do?! – He repeated in abject horror.

Tove chuckled.

— I dunno, her being friends with a bogeyman is pretty terrifying. — Nex grumbled, shivering slightly as he trudged through the water. Not too deep, like foot level, but still unpleasant enough in this weather. Then the words finally caught up with him. — Wait a minute. You burned down the courthouse, and I learn about it like now?! And that’s not even the biggest thing you did?!

— Oh yeah, I only told Cogs… Well, Cogs and most folks in the commune. We also skinned cars a couple of times. Grannie decorated the ceiling of her workshop with one of those. Still not the top of it.

— I've got enough wondering in my head as is, spill it.

— I am kinda sorta the reason there's a legal bit in Woodmar against carrying roundwood in public without a good reason.

 

— Wha… What is a good reason to carry a hugeass chunk of wood?

— Not justice, apparently.

— Wait, shut up, what did you mean by “carrying”?

— Uh, using my fucking hands, what did you think?

— Tove, for the love of CHEESE, how much do you LIFT?!

In the uproar, Tove noticed a suspicious lack of snarky comments. Come on, that was a perfect time for one. Yet, Neven stayed quiet and seemed out of it.

— Are you like, okay?

— ...
— I mean, the longer we walk, the more you're bleeding.

— If you didn't insist on sticking fingers into my wounds, I would've bled less.
..
— Do you feel better when you're coyote?

— When I involuntarily turn, I usually don't have much capacity to feel left.

— How about you turn voluntarily, and I'll carry you until we're out of here?

— Unless you can do that without touching me, no.

— I'll just stuff you in my jacket, then you're touching only my clothes.

— Why are you so insistent on this?

— I dunno, why are you so hell-bent on not letting people help you?

— Because so far, every ounce of help from you has come unwanted and painful.

— I'm not “people”, I might be salad, but I'm singular, dude. Why don't you want to be alive?

— Because I'm supposed to be dead. The fact that I am like this is a crime against nature.

— You don't sound like it's you talking.

— What is that even supposed to mean?

— Oh boy, just how deep you are in those trenches… I'll let you figure this one out, but like… You have noticed you're slipping, right? You told about that cult thing you were in a bunch of times, and Cogs told me some of what I missed, too, and how you're not in that thing anymore, but what you just said… Does that sound like something you actually believe?

Neven froze for a moment. Then continued walking as if he did not just have this exchange.

 

— I'm one stubborn bitch, dude, you're not ignoring me out of this.

He mumbled in response.

— Hey, this wasn't here before. — She pointed at a crack across the back of his hand. — Care to take your coat off?

— Just what do I need to do to you to have you leave me alone for good?!

The crack spread across his face as well. The shout caused Nex and Cogs, who trudged behind them, to stop and pay more attention to what was going on. Nexialist tilted his head, although hard to say whether in confusion or concern.

— Okay, never mind about the coat. Turn coyote, like, ten minutes ago. — He attempted to protest, but Tove grabbed him by the shoulders. — You're fucking dying dead, turn dog for fuck's sake!

So he did. Coyote was dripping blood where its collar would have been. Tove scooped him up.

— Look, I get that you hate me, and honestly, you have your reasons. But I don't want you to be in pain. I suck at achieving my goal, yes, but like, the more you're hiding what's wrong the worse it gets. I'm sure we can find someone or something that makes you feel better. But first, we kinda have to finish this whole thing, right? So let's not freak out right now. At least not until we can be sure that the lively bunch is safe.

He huffed and got comfortable in her arms.

— Great. I'll be honest, I don't know what this cracking thing is in sciency words, but folks aren't the same once pieces chip off. And once enough is gone, folks go insane, attacking anything in sight. Or just kind of wander in circles around the place. And, okay, you don't want me to care about you, so I'll put it differently — those chipped folks attract demons. They're easy prey, so they attract very hungry demons. And no matter how adorable Toma is, to a starving demon, he is worth more dead than alive. And you know damn well not him, not any other in this pack, is standing a chance. Also, when Toma notices you're not okay, he starts to panic. And when one panics, one commits a stupid. So, you being okay directly leads to him being okay, got it?

Nex, who was trying his best not to stumble and fall into the water, and talking quietly to Cogs before, interjected, adding to Tove’s words.

— Also, don't forget that you owe me money for my part of all this. — He pointed at Neven accusingly. — Like, don't get me wrong, you fam are cool, but your coyote butt definitely lives at least until you pay up.

— Hey, — Soruk, who was showing them the way out, noticed that the group slowed down and turned to look at them, tilting his head slightly in question. — You want to leave the swamp, or not?

At last, after quite a bit more walking, they were out of the swamplands. Soruk, being the swamp spirit, parted ways with them on the edge of the swamp, from where they could reach the semi-dry land themselves, mentioning something about it being the fringes of his turf and bidding them safe travels.

Toma, who woke up a while ago, had to be shaken until all the frogs and snails he picked up fell out. Neven, too, seemed to have returned to his normal state. Though the cracks were still visible.

— Where to now?

— Lara's.

— And then?

— And then I call mum, and you go home. You've travelled long enough, kiddo. Mum must be dead worried.

— But… But the search… Can you keep looking without me?

— It will have to wait. We lost the track, and it will take me a couple of weeks to get back where I was with it. But kiddo, I need you to understand. A very long time has passed. It's not just unlikely that we'll find dad, it's unlikely we'll find his body. It's not bad to hope, but there's little else we can do.

— Okay. May I keep dad's glasses?

— You'll have to ask mum, I think she might want to keep them too.

— Okay… May I wear them? Just a little?

— Just a little.

So… this is it?

The search is over. Everyone made it to the end in one piece. Imeje will catch up to them soon, and just as soon, everything will return to how it was before.

Just how he initially wanted…?

A mere thought of stopping the chase made Neven want to take Toma hostage. Doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

Not that he would again lose his only reason for existence had he stopped chasing his game, that would be ridiculous. The feeling of normalcy he so desperately yearned for that the chase gave him was almost forgettable. No, he is doing this for the greater good.

As always.

As always, he is a liar.

As always, for the greater good.

His erratic gaze happened upon a charred handprint on a door of one of the few establishments open at this hour.

— I think we're right where we need to be. Look.

The handprint clearly matched Neven's hand.

— We can't know for sure that's not the beginning of the tracks.

— We can, dude, this door is younger than the pine carvings.

— How-

— You gotta trust me on this one, if you don’t wanna hear about any more trees. Let's just head in. The worst thing that could happen is that the drinks are shit.

— Weren't we going somewhere? — Harvey asked.

— Relax, we'll just wait for a more conventional hour to show up at someone's home. — Honestly, Nex was just tired of walking, and this place sounded like sitting.

As much as Harvey wanted to get it over with, that was a sound idea. Lara probably wouldn't be up for another hour, and this place wasn't too far away.

The pub was almost picturesque. Wood-laden walls, warm lights, smell of cigarette smoke in the air, laughter and conversations of the diverse patrons, some kind of upbeat folk music playing over the sound system, a football playing on TV in the corner and some people cheering to it, a mishmash group seated in the faraway corner of the room playing some kind of tabletop game… Nothing stood out too much. Until one of the drunks sitting alone at the table some distance to the side finally slumped over the slab, hugging the empty beer glass.

Two people, not particularly interesting in appearance, stood up from a nearby table and carried the passed-out drunk into the back of the pub.

— They're weird.

— Probably went to rob the guy. Mind your own business

— No, I mean, they glow the same as the door in Avonborough.

— You're not making this up to delay motherwrath, are you?

— Can you just go look at what they're doing there?

Nexialist rolled his eyes under the mask, but actually, he had a suspicion that Toma was right. Probably, it was something worse than a robbery commencing over there. There was almost zero reason for would-be muggers to carry their victim somewhere secluded – in a pub filled to the brim, you could steal from a lone drunk even his pants, not that he or anyone else would notice in this crowd, or care. Now, this suspicion didn’t make Nex any more interested in the situation, rather the opposite, since he didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of whatever shady business was happening. But there was no saying no to Toma’s puppy eyes.

So, naturally, Nex, with a tag-along in the face of Cogs, left Toma with the only other alive adult in their party and weaved his way through the crowd of drunks, football fans and other clients of this unfortunate place, towards the door on the side of the bar, leading out of the main room, where the two men carrying the drunk disappeared. He went through the short corridor towards the as it turned out, blessedly unlocked and slightly even opened door, conveniently enough labelled as “staff only”, and took a peek through the crack in it, careful not to touch the door itself and to walk as quietly as possible.

Needless to say, he realised his paranoia was right almost immediately, this time around. He got to the door just in time to watch the two men carry the still-unconscious drunk inside the door portal further down the narrow hallway – by looks of it, the same kind Harvey used to get them to Leitra.

— What the fuck?.. — Cogs muttered, his warped by mask voice quiet, surprised but by no means less angry.
— What do you think it is? — Nex grumbled quietly, starting to slowly retreat towards the main room. He didn’t like what he saw at all, and even more, he didn’t like where all this was going. — Kidnapping and other related offences.
— I’m dead, not blind! — Cogs huffed in indignation. Then shook his head, hovering behind Nex. — We need to get to the bottom of this.

Nexialist gritted his teeth under the mask, letting out a small huff of displeasure. He wasn’t doing it. He wasn’t going to do it – all he wanted right now was to get back to his hideout, crash onto the couch and pretend he didn’t see anything, and get the money owed to him… Ah, who was he kidding? Cogs already sped up through the wall towards the party, not like he had a say on the matter.

Although for the record, Nex was more pissed off at his still-not-dead-but-bleeding heart more than at anything else. Kidnapping was wrong, unless it were people in power, who abuse it. Cogs thought similarly, because he was already yelling to Tove and Toma from halfway:

— They kidnapped the drunken dude! In broad daylight! In the middle of the pub!

Of course, the team decided to go there as soon as Cogs told them what they’d seen. At this point, Nex just sighed. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if they accidentally stumbled upon Quinise Triada International, or some shit like that. That would not even be surprising anymore, considering everything.

And of course, naturally, Nex went along with the team, not wanting to think too hard about why he actually did it, because thinking about circumstance and reasoning was really overrated. Totally not because Nex was lying to himself and liking the company.

The door led to a bright, windy, impossibly open and vast place. The kind Nex only saw in his dreams.
Upon transporting, Nex and Toma both felt lightheaded and lost consciousness.
A while later, a high-pitched noise pulled Nex back to reality.

— Well, I'll be darned, mountains in the east. Don't get up yet.

— What the..?

— Altitude sickness.

— … The fuck? — he motioned at Harvey.

— I fly a lot, I'm used to rapid altitude changes. Drink your water.

After a while, Nex felt more or less normal. Toma took some more time, probably due to him being aquatic. The way he crawled around chirping before it clicked was kinda funny though.
As soon as they were all in a walking condition, they set off following the trail in the cold, dry, rocky terrain.

The door hasn't disappeared from the view yet, and Nex has already considered going back. There was something… subtly fucked up about Harvey. For someone who managed to walk out of the swamp with dry feet while completely stoned, he started tripping and shuffling way too much. Even flung his tail straight into a prickly bush on a turn. Good thing Nex doesn’t wear glasses, they would shatter from the note Harvey reached.

Nex, at first thought that Harvey had already taken a dash of something new – to bolster the drugs already in his system, while Nex was distracted with snooping after kidnapping weirdos. It would make sense, witches had increased poison resistance after all. So, naturally, he decided to stop and tell Harvey in the most casual way possible:

— Ey, Harvey, I don’t think this “altitude sickness” is a good mix with whatever you took in the pub.

— No, I just, what, half a cup of wójt-not-white I think? Toma had some too

Nex cocked an eyebrow under the mask. What? He looked at Toma with a bit of concern, trying to discern the signs of the kid being drugged. Toma, however, was his usual self, and there were no other clues like dilated pupils or paleness, or anything else, so Nexialist assumed that Harvey wasn’t insane as to drug both himself and the kid. Which led to a conclusion.

— Wait, you what, clean? — Nex let out a disbelieving huff at that. — Because you don’t look like that to me.

— Lord strike me down if I'm not truthing, you laundried basset.

— Careful with the wording, dude, you look like you mighta tumble down any second now.

— Nexa, your pants do stink like a wet dog – Toma intervened. Probably since he was closer to the pants.

— Well, I took a bath in a swamp, innit? — Nex shrugged, sparing a glance at Toma. — Look. What I’m trying to say is – you look like you’re having a real bad trip, and I’m not about to judge, but I don’t want to be the one who has to catch you if you fall. I lived on a street, not at the circus.

— But Harvey isn't lying, we only had tea. It was very sour, and I only took a sip.

— Wasn't not?

— But it was sour!

— How are you even understanding what he's saying?!

It was a miracle that at least Toma understood Harvey. But wait. Sour tea?.. Nex hummed thoughtfully. Cogs meanwhile looked over Toma and Harvey again, then asked, stepping closer to Toma and crouching down to get on his eye level – probably to have a better look.

— Okay, and how are you feeling, kiddo?

— My ears hurt and click. And Nexa stinks.
— Uh-huh. Nothing else? — Toma nodded, and Cogs hummed too. — Well, that’s weird, since you drank the same stuff… Hey, Nex! — He looked at Nexialist, waving to get his attention. — Ask the Raccoon-man the finger trick!

That turned Nex out of his thinking. He immediately stepped closer to Tragač and put the hand on Harvey's eye level, making the “piss off” gesture.

— Hey, look here. What am I holding up?

— Fingers?

Bubba, the raider of trash bins and biter of ankles, appeared from the bag, hissing. That seemed to knock some understanding of the situation into the witch, as he frantically started shaking various forms of activated charcoal from his deck of nonsense. Nex put down his hand, glancing at Cogs.

— Drugs?

— Defs. — Cogs nodded, standing up. — Or something of the sort.

— COAL! THE POISON!

— Figures! — Nex shouted back. — I’m talking to my dead brother here right now. — Nexialist sighed and mumbled, pressing his hands to his temples. — Shit, what to do now…
— Determine what the fuck it is. — Cogs immediately shrugged, pointing to the obvious answer. — I can’t play street pharmacy here, also no guarantee it’s something we know. But…

One quick possession and dispossession later, Cogs stumbled out of Harvey, screaming at the top of his lungs.

— The FUCK?!

— Pst, my canine friend, I zoned out. Why are we screaming? —Tove whispered

— We're stupid, nothing new. — Neven was, again, a coyote. Though this time he justified it by telling himself that the coyote has better senses.

— What’re you whispering there about? — Nex tried focusing on something, anything else.

— Said you're morons, nothing new.

— Salt?! — Harvey continued to lose his mind.

Nex took a deep breath, feeling more and more and more tired and desperate each second.

Cogs, meanwhile, seemed to calm down enough to talk, although he still twitched slightly.

— So, it’s def a psych-thing. Not that I was ever very good with biology, but I lived with Nex and know some of the drug stuff. — Cogs shook his head, sighing slightly, clearly regretting some of his knowledge, if not all of it. — All in all, Harvey’s definitely under something, which makes him feel way out of his game. And that’s only to put it lightly.

— Call salt. Call salt, please.

Nex blinked in slight confusion, clenching his fingers slightly. Alright, panic later, now plan. Plan. Plan…

— We need to get somewhere safe. — Eventually, he concluded. — Let’s go. Harvey, lead the way, I’ll be going behind you. Everyone, look for a place to hide.

Despite Nex not being agile enough to be a circus acrobat, he still hoped he’d catch Harvey if he went close enough to him, and that his fairly scrawny self would be enough to drag the witch back out of the chasm under the mountain path. He owed Toma that much, and he continued to bullshit himself yet again, but that definitely didn’t matter.

Thankfully, what spells and medication Harvey had used have stabilised him to some extent. That alone made Nex breathe out in relief. Now, to find shelter was a task like no other, but eventually the mountain path led them out to a small valley, surrounded by cliffs. There was greenery around it too – trees and bushes, and, strangely enough, in the valley was settled a not-that-small village. But the first thing Nex noticed wasn’t that. It was a giant cave in the mountaintop ahead, with a huge statue of someone with too many hands looming over the entrance and the valley. It was hard to tell whose statue it was due to the lack of a head on said statue – almost as if severed, the neck ended in an untouched, rough rock. Whoever carved the deity out of the mountain avoided sculpting its face by all means possible.

— So… — Nex swallowed a lump he didn't notice forming in his throat. Then noted, feeling it tightening and his voice slightly straining. He was nervous about this, but only now did he understand how much. — You know what, turning back sounds real nice right about now.

— Turning back and running into them dudes on that narrow of a path doesn't sound nice, dude. Especially with Harvey being… fally.

— Okay, — That… made sense. Nex hated that it made sense. But being apprehended by those weirdos from the bar didn't sound too good either, so he chose the only marginally better option. — The satanic valley of whatever it is, then.

The town seemed weirdly normal. Just your generic town in the middle of nowhere. The buildings were all two stories tall at most, made from yellowish brick, which many decorated with elaborate paintings of flowers. The roofs, if there were any, lay flat like a sheet of paper. The people around here were small and had dark skin, though most had light eyes. The way they looked at the “tourists” was haunting, reminiscent of the way one looks at roadkill in its last moments.
The streets were eerily quiet, as if these streets were used to way more people than they now housed.
And then came the swarm.

The crowd were dressed in bright colours and more jewellery than Nex had pickpocketed in his lifetime. Similar face paint and headgear hinted at them being a religious group of some sort.
Their screaming and attempts to persuade Nex and Harvey to buy blessings only solidified that suspicion.

Nex was caught by surprise, so he couldn't react well in time. His first instinct was to run the fuck away from this sect of whoever. However, Toma’s first instinct was to cling to Nex’s leg with all his might. So, Nex couldn't run away very well, not that he’d leave Toma here now to these lunatics. However, his persuasion didn't work very well either on the madmen of the idiot church, so he was just about to stop trying to push the monks away with words and start blasting, adding a few more martyrs to this church’s belief system… but then something happened.

An old man, looking more like a human raisin, ran out from the nearest house and started chasing the crowd off with a large knife. The monks immediately lost their jolly attitude upon the local’s appearance, and left, cussing.

— You. Tourist. You don't talk to them, they are all thieves and drug addicts. They put mud on the Holy Rain's name.

— Isn't Holy Rain all about washing your sins away? — Harvey seemed to finally catch a fleeing thought in his delirium.

— Yes, yes, but they chased all Iyye monks away. They only seek to feel sinless, they do not care about undoing. They do not care about the ones they hurt. All water and no work makes the whole field rot. They divided into casts, they made up punishment. It is all wrong. All are the same under rain. They are all wrong.

— Who are those dog masks? — Toma pointed at a group of cultists that sulked in the corner, despite the rest leaving.

— They are the lowest caste. They put all their sins on them, and then they kill them. They don't last long. I think it doesn't work because of that. Don't talk or touch them, they are muddy. They will make you like they are. Go home, tourist, and do not come back.

Nex felt his eye twitch. The situation left more questions than answers, putting him in a state of in no way mild irritation. But if the warning of this seemingly normal man was to be believed… the asylum escapees tried getting them into their cult of whatever-rain? That wouldn't be as irritating if they had some sense of morality at all, but of course, they had to see a literal innocent child of Toma and decide “sure, why not”. That was a fine line even Nex didn't cross, never, ever in his life, no matter how low it had him.

In his frustration, Nex tapped his fingers against his pocket. Then froze. For a second, it was as if the world stopped spinning. Then, he reached inside.

It was empty.

— …Toma, — Nex reached into another pocket, and his blood turned first icy cold, then scalding hot and boiling, as he tried not to erupt in curses right here and now. The pocket where his gun was supposed to be was empty. His revolver, his wallet, his phone, even his watch – all missing. — Close your ears.

As soon as Toma did what was asked, Nex started swearing.

He was fucking mugged. He, who picked pockets at Toma’s age, was distracted and had his things stolen! By a bunch of freaks in mantles! Valuable and useful things too!

Nex was sure that whatever was left of his pride was wounded enough to be screaming in agony.

While Nex expressed his emotions like a rational and totally stable man he is, Harvey and Toma managed to make a deal with the old man for some treatment. At least, monks poisoned people often enough that a treatment was widely known.

Coyote's ears perked up as he caught a whiff of something familiar and went after it.
Tove couldn’t even reach his starting point before the bluish orb of his entire being was locked up in a tiny, golden birdcage. The monk in blue robes carried what must've been 50 of them, each with a squirming, shining orb inside.

— I’ll figure this out, don’t worry. Keep the rest safe, okay?

— … Okay? — Cogs struggled to keep up with the bullshit
And so Tove too, disappeared in the crowd.

What was left of the group sat by the old man’s house.

— Holy Rain… This is bad. This is real bad. They… They’ve… There’s… Order looted their… and… The fish Liokk… What was her name?... The fish Liokk… She worked with.. the thing Holy Rain made.

— Does Neven know something about this?

— No.. No, Neven… The fish Liokk… Neven is the result. Krsto… She wasn’t around anymore, but… What Order took… She found many uses… Neven doesn’t know shit… Unless it’s about murder.

The old man was done with whatever remedy Harvey’s state required, and invited him inside. If before tracking without a track seemed like a bad idea, now tracking without a tracker was a definite jump on the rakes. So, the gang decided to split. Harvey will stay here, and the rest head back to the door, and ask Lara for help. The best Liokk has to know what to do in a case like this.
This was a very good plan, especially compared to the rest of their plans, except for a tiny miscalculation — not a soul in the remaining party could find their way around this town. All buildings looked the same, all the roads seemed to go downwards, and the place they came from didn’t have any identifying features from this point of view.

— I think we should ask one of them. — Toma pointed at a passing dog mask.

— I’d really rather not deal with any more crazy.

— Me too, but there’s a lot of them everywhere. They have to know where things are.

— … Fine. Let’s go ask a puppy.

— No, not this one.

— Why?

— … I don’t know, I don’t like them.

Dog masks, unlike other cultists, all looked mostly the same. They all wore wooden dog masks, dull orange ponchos and baggy discoloured pants. Oxidised copper cuffs on limbs and neck were the only splashes of colour most of them had, as their skin was smothered in ash.
This dogmask walked with a heavy limp. Each time he took a step, it seemed that this would be the one when he falls, and yet he didn't, ever so diligently sweeping the leaves. The way he moved the broom, too, seemed off, until Toma realised how crooked and twisted his left arm was. Upon further investigation, this dogmask also happened to have a tail, wrapped in fabric and forever bent at an odd angle. Though the tail was so thin, Toma almost wasn't sure there was anything but fabric there, but the dogmask did sway it to keep himself from falling as he walked. Where the ash was rubbed off by clothes, his skin was almost transparent. Paired with his rather skeletal build, he painted a clear picture of how Toma imagined the raised dead to look and behave like.

— This one seems safe.

— I'd question you, but then again, you looked at me and thought the same thing. Thinking he could be useful?

— Look at him, he probably was here for a long time, so he probably knows things.

— Unless he got here a week ago and looked like that beforehand.

— We won't find out unless we ask.

Asking turned out to be harder than expected, and not for one of the normal reasons. They could deal with monks not speaking the same language, which would make sense. Astonishing amount of them, however, spoke perfect Redar.
No, of course Nex had to deal with weird witch bullshit.
The dogmask that Toma insisted they had to ask kept getting away.
The path he chose to sweep the leaves wouldn’t make sense to a slime mould making its way through a slice of cheese, nor would it make sense to a concussed pillbug, a rabid hedgehog, or other not entirely sound-minded creatures interested in leaves. He swept half of a square, then part of a connecting street, then walked two streets over to a dead end. Next, he went to sweep in the orangery of sorts. There, he finally approached them, showing them into a leafy yet thorny bush before either could say anything.

— You, dogmask. Some “tourists” followed us back. Seen ‘em? — One of the kidnappers from the pub. They were still dressed the same, yet here they looked about as out of place as Nex, Toma, and Cogs did.

The dogmask lied.

— Well, why the hell not?! — The kidnapper punched him hard. Then left without another word. Probably to ask other dogmasks.

Once it was safe, dogmask motioned for them to get out of the bush.

— Why are you helping?

The cultist pulled out a tiny wax tablet and started writing.

— "No dogmask is here out of their own will. I wouldn't wish this fate on you."

— What's your name?

He smoothed his writing out and began writing anew.

— "They took it. Now I am a fog dogmask. They will take yours too if they catch you."

— What do you mean by "Took it"?

— "I no longer have, know or own a name. I no longer have my own fate. The rain is my master, and I am what he pleases."

— Can't you give yourself a new name?

— "Not anymore."

— Can I name you?

— "You are very kind. Unfortunately, it will take someone more powerful than master to give me a name."

— I'll call you Fogdog then. Why can't you talk?

— "It is not a privilege dogmasks have. I am cursed, and will be punished if I speak.”