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Colt stripped off his cloak and hung it up to dry. Hounder entered an empty stall, circled the pile of hay before laying down. Colt talked the entire time. His topics manly of horse facts, telling old tracking stories, and asking how hay was made.
“We need a fire,” Raisor finally said. He walked over to the destroyed section and started chopping the beams into kindling wood.
Colt began digging a ditch to put the wood in. “Fires are good, but a tad overrated if you’re not cooking. I mean look at these animals.” He waved a muddy hand at the horses and dog. “They don’t use fire and they are just fine.”
Raisor lugged the wood into the pit. “They also have more body hair than we do.” He angled the wood just so, took a piece of foot and struck it with his dagger. The sparks flew onto the wood before fizzling out. Raisor rolled his eyes and sighed. “Ahh great, stupid rain.”
“Hay can be used to keep you warm. Packs you in nice and tight.”
“Right…” Raisor’s voice trailed off. He crouched down and examined the pile of wood. He stood up and went over to Hugh’s cart. He heard a loud ringing. He peaked his head in.
Colt asked, “What are you doing?”
Raisor lifted himself inside. An unlit candle sat on the side of the buggy. He took a match and lit it. He raised the candle and looked around. The walls of the buggy housed two walls of chemicals in different sizes and shaped bottles. The back wall held a large wooden board that went out to the middle. At the end of the board were slots with scalps and razors. He heard a loud, squishy step. His reflexes kicked in. He drew his sword and saw Colt standing outside the cart. His cloaked covered him again. “I thought it was wet,” Raisor said. He returned his sword to his back.
“Ohh it’s dried off now.” He flapped the cloak and no water splashed off.
“Cool.” Raisor returned to looking at the shelves. He pulled a bottle out, jumped off, and went back over to the wood. Colt stepped out of his way. Raisor splashed the liquid on the pile of wood. Removed his dagger and struck a spark again. The wood combusted into a blue flame. The blue morphed into green, then orange, only finally settled into a strong red.
“What is that?” Colt asked
Raisor covered the bottle then shook it. “Salablazer spit.” He walked over to the cart. “It probably has a special medical name. It’s just the spit of the salablazer.”
“Yes, I just was unaware it could be used to start fires.”
“It shouldn’t.” Raisor raised himself back into the cart and turned the corner. “It is used to flash seal wounds. But a burns a burn.” He reammerged with a small packet of pork. “And a meal.”
“Is that used for medicine too?” Raisor walked back to the fire, opened the package and jabbed his knife into a slice.
“Nope.” He extended his hand and roasted the meat. “Just used for eating.”
“Sit! Eat.” Raisor patted the ground next to him. “It could be our last meal,” he chuckled.
“You’re not worried?” Colt took the seat, removed his knife and took a piece of the meat.
“Nope. Dragon’s just a dragon.” He turned the meat over the flame. The scent filled the space around them with the pleasant odor of curing meat. “We will be okay.”