The Iron Assassin

Burnt out Bullshit

Hehehehehe. Will there be a lemon? Maybe, maybe not, idk...

Watching the maid Riplash directed him to watch was giving him a while load of nothing...nothing...nothing.

Peeking behind corners, acting as inconspicuous as possible while stalking a supposed Tracker Jackel disguised as a relatively pretty dragoness. Being caught would not be a good look for him at all.

"C'mon. Give me something to work with." He mumbled, watching as she turned a corner and disappeared into a relatively empty hallway.

Oooookaaaaaay.

He peeked his head back and forth. Making sure no two of the same guards saw him before trotting quietly down the smoothstone floor before following her down the hall. Falcon made it about halfway through before leaping behind an archway, hugging himself against the wall as her head shot back and forth, falling completely still as if she was listening to something.

He waited behind the arch, praying to the moons above that she didn't see him.

Click. Swoosh. Click.

The sound of a door opening and closing bounced through the hall, signifying that she entered inside. Presumably, a storage room or maintenance room. But it's good enough to hide in to do... whatever Riplash explained they did.

"Neural communication. Remember that. They need to be very still to give lots of information and talk coherently to each other. So, if one needs to say something mentally, they will most likely hide or be somewhere unpopulated to do so."

He remembered Riplash explaining something along those lines to him. A few days ago, even if it was a blurry thought (mostly because he half understood him), some key sentences he was able to make out or remember. Slowly slinking out from behind the archway, he started down the hall again when...

"Falcon."

"Oh!" Falcon almost jumped, holding back his nerves the best he could.

"Hey, Opuntia. What's up?" He questioned, looking back at the smaller sandwing calmly. Her red freckled face always seemed to make him ever-so-slightly relieved.

"Do you...get a feeling Riplash is hiding something?" She questioned, walking up to him before calmly sitting down.

Thinking for a second, he decided what to say next. "Yeah. He's been hiding most of his plan from us. Almost as if he-"

"Wants to do it by himself?" Opuntia finished.

"Yeah... maybe." Falcon finished. He suspected the actual reason he was being so quiet was a lot more sinister. Like he had a part of this mission he wanted to hide. But what was it?

"Maybe? I'm certain of it! He doesn't care about credit, but maybe he's not used to working with others. We can change that!" She grinned. Her hopeful attitude pulled a smirk to his face. It was a wonder she had such a positive look on him. Even after everything she heard, Riplash has done in his life.

"Maybe Opuntia. Seems like a challenge you want." He chuckled, earning a nod of agreement from the smaller sandwing.

"Mhm. I think it will help him get some semblance of a life outside of serving a killer phsyco queen." She explained with a smile. Falcon didn't know what her plan to do so was, he hoped her the best. Riplash didn't seem to care about changing or socializing or changing who he was as a dragon.

"And how do you plan to do that?" He questioned.

"I don't know. But I will find a way." She grinned, standing up once again with a determined gleam in her eyes.