Friend or Food

This was a foolish idea; he couldn't really decide why exactly he was doing this. Perhaps it was the notion that it would appease the spirits, as they urged him onward. Or, rather, it was that he felt the slightest of thrills at danger. However, even after all that, Aza's instincts told him to turn back. 

But had he listened to them when he fell down that mine shaft? Yeah, he wasn't good at listening to survival instincts. Aza had at least taken the lesser of the two evils, since Cynic just seemed like a bunch of glorified thugs all striving for an unreachable dream. Aza's leg had mostly healed by now, but he still suffered a limp in his gait. Hopefully this wasn't permanent, as he already lacked an arm. Given, the prosthetic arm sure hit a lot harder. 

Aza had no issues picking his way through the dark tunnel; if he hadn't brought a flashlight, he would have been able to see clearly, anyway. Of course, he preferred to stay out of pitch darkness, so the night vision was basically a last resort. Aza smiled warily, wondering now if the bullet train had been the best option. He just hoped Cynic members didn't pick up so easily on fear; perhaps he could join them as a final option. Well, he guessed if they offered a good cut of credits, then it wouldn't be that hard of a decision. Aza simply didn't care for their ideals.

As Aza moved through the tunnel, glancing at the cobblestone walls arching towards the ceiling, he could feel the spirits' curiosity stir. Glancing over, Aza halted at the sight of the bullet train, muttering to himself as he approached it. This was such an idiotic notion; what was he going to tell Cynic about boarding the train? They certainly didn't welcome outsiders. And all Maliketh knew was Tackle, so a battle was not a choice, either.

The cat padded behind him, its eyes narrowing as it glimpsed the train. Maliketh bared his fangs, though they weren't as menacing as the many scythes surrounding his body. Food? 

No, you can't eat anybody. 

He already had to hear the spirits; Aza didn't need Maliketh questioning whether everybody was friend, foe, or food. Though usually the latter two were acceptable to go together. Aza stopped at the doors of the bullet train, swallowing both in anticipation and nervousness. On one hand, he did enjoy a little bit of chaos; on the other hand, he was still recovering from that agonizing fall. And all for that thieving cat. 

Maliketh raised his head at this, narrowing his eyes at Aza's thoughts.

Not you. 

Well, this was it. As he boarded the train, Aza just hoped Cynic weren't completely awful. They'd totally beat someone with an injured leg up, judging by the stories. Ah, well. Better than inhaling sand; storms like that made people go missing before near Brookfell. He'd take his chances with a group of thugs over the will of nature. Aza just hoped that was the right decision.