Head snapping toward Ceren as she approached, her taunt would make Genthus’s ears perk lightly in offense, a proud brow raising in doubt. As she brought the goat in question near, he’d eye it suspiciously, leaning in. For a moment, the exhausted creature would just stare at him in fright. Then it would end with a pathetic bleat, Genthus leaning back and shaking his head, making sure to make a show of his own horns. ”Fat chance…”
As they sat to eat, Genthus would regret not grabbing more jerky, his snack already enjoyed. He’d settle for his wineskin as Caro laid bare a solid plan; bait, let swoop, barrage with earthworks, impale, and batter to death. Genthus was almost tempted to complain that it didn’t sound sporting, but then again, he thought, this was a wyvern; if it couldn’t surprise them despite all that, why did it have a reputation at all?
At Esme’s suggestion, he’d pause, wineskin still in hand, and point with a finger at her. ”If we want to string it along elsewhere, we could fling the goat on me.” Motioning over his shoulder at his back with a thumb, he’d finish his swig of booze before wiping his mouth with the wineskin itself. ”Tie it to my back, I’ll keep us both alive and moving.” The trap would be the better way to kill the wyvern, but the chase would be the better way to fight the wyvern. With the handicap of the goat, it was not only a better story to tell, but a greater test of prowess; how many people could say they’d bested a beast like the Fereldan wyverns handicapped with a bleating knapsack?
Grinning a little at the thought, Genthus would huff a chuckle. ”Although if we lure it away, we will need a way to make it lose interest. Else we’ll need to batter it enough to make it run, and then we risk it dying slowly in its den.”
As they sat to eat, Genthus would regret not grabbing more jerky, his snack already enjoyed. He’d settle for his wineskin as Caro laid bare a solid plan; bait, let swoop, barrage with earthworks, impale, and batter to death. Genthus was almost tempted to complain that it didn’t sound sporting, but then again, he thought, this was a wyvern; if it couldn’t surprise them despite all that, why did it have a reputation at all?
At Esme’s suggestion, he’d pause, wineskin still in hand, and point with a finger at her. ”If we want to string it along elsewhere, we could fling the goat on me.” Motioning over his shoulder at his back with a thumb, he’d finish his swig of booze before wiping his mouth with the wineskin itself. ”Tie it to my back, I’ll keep us both alive and moving.” The trap would be the better way to kill the wyvern, but the chase would be the better way to fight the wyvern. With the handicap of the goat, it was not only a better story to tell, but a greater test of prowess; how many people could say they’d bested a beast like the Fereldan wyverns handicapped with a bleating knapsack?
Grinning a little at the thought, Genthus would huff a chuckle. ”Although if we lure it away, we will need a way to make it lose interest. Else we’ll need to batter it enough to make it run, and then we risk it dying slowly in its den.”
10-04-2024, 07:08 PM
