"Shhh—fuuu…"
Warm, comforting, familiar and terrible all at once.
A man, a struggle, from metal hands—four in all. He tried to move against the grip, blood smearing down the side of his face.
His groans fading into the background, swallowed by the rain.
"Fuu..."
Grrnn.
Another, a man, Vince—sat on a worn wooden crate, a cigarette between his finger. with a dull feeling lingered in his chest, flicking the cigarette butt on the damp ground.
"Huah...Here, pass him this hanky."
Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a folded handkerchief, then glancing back up.
"I'm talking to you tin man, on the right."
The words coming from Vince's mouth were muffled by the rain, swallowing half the words while it hammered against the tent overhead.
As Vince held his hand out, the brummagemliich released the kneeling man's arm—
Bam!
The man lunged up instantly, using his free arm to wrench himself forward—only for his head to be driven into the ground, his other arm pulled past his comfort. At the same time, the liich plunked the handkerchief from Vince's outstretched hand.
"Ah—kh—fuck—!"
He struggled again and huffed, spitting blood onto the muddy ground, squinting his eyes at a blinding light.
"Mhm… why'd you even bother trying to break free? You really think you can hurt a man of steel?"
Vince said, slouching his shoulders when the man snatched the handkerchief.
"C'mon now… cough we ain't… we ain't done nothin' wrong here…" The mans tone was pained.
"You all ran—" Vince said flatly. "—so don't tell me you didn't do anything."
"…you're the one—runnin' on us, draggin' all these damn puppets."
At his words, Vince glanced around,. One, two, three—five bruliich in all.
"Who'd—stay still after seein' all of this, huh?!"
Ignoring him, the ears atop his head flinched, facing another direction at together.
He turned his head a moment later towards the sun dipping past the horizon, the glare from the bracelet on his right hand finally got on his nerves—he shifted it aside, no longer blinding the man's marred face too.
Standing, he dug into his jacket while the man was hauled back onto his knees. Vince stepped closer, pulling out a film between his fingers.
"You seen this person?"
A picture in his grasp.
The man—a canine like him, squinted at it.
"Who's this even meant to be, huh? A sketch?" He snorted. "Hehahaha…brown hair, blue eyes?"
Cracking a smile, he spoke, staring with his remaining eye.
"Sorry, boy. Never seen this broad before, heh—heh—HAhaha."
"..."
Vince wiped his face against his sleeve, clearing the spit that reached him. The film, lightly crumpled now, went back into his pocket.
"You know… I would've let you go."
"But I don't think I will anymore."
Extending his hand—like asking for a lady's hand.
—♩
The device hanging from his belt, a metal vibrating rung softly.
Like the thunder that rolled high above, the man's face hardened—his jaw spasming with the smell of gilt, defiance flashing through his glaring eye.
"'ndto I ohW enve cie?Al si rmrebmee. even"
His face reddened as he held the stare.