D tied the bag to the of the saddle of his horse. Black, like most of what he owned. The scarf danced once as though to remind of the ambiguity of its design. Lydia spoke to him, the one syllable, one letter name he had made for himself. D turned. All urgency was gone now. There was really just the next mission after having ended this one. His job was delivering the mementos and hoping the people in the dungeon find their way back, as well, now that the ban had been lifted. He could collect whenever. There was a lightness over his features that could not be read as happy. A soldier between assignments.
He considered her question. He’d not competed with them for the bounty of Wallace and Gregory, so the family of the two would not need to see him. There were a city on the way, a particularly adamant father. He should be receiving a boot of his daughter. Small woman, but a woman still, not a girl. And there was another worried family member of Wesos that should have some closure from the hat he’d brought. D considered the male mutant, who was giving of an air not entirely unfamiliar to D. It was a hostility, but not an entirely unforgiving one. There was no real animosity there, even if the green haired would prefer D did not exist. “Yes.” Left Hand said. D nodded then, since his parasite had taken the initiative. “Yes.” He repeated and swung his leg up on the horse after having freed its reigns.
Oleyo simply nodded. D was not a competitor anymore. Even though his presence did rake a bit, it was nothing Oleyo hadn’t felt toward other groups he’d been forced to cooperate with during other hunts. He led Lydia along as D kept their pace with his horse. A higher end of horse, but a horse still. Oleyo would never choose those cybernetic animals over his bike, even though the means of control, reigns, were somewhat favorable to his one-arm condition.
As they stepped toward the machines, not far away, he wondered how traveling with the vampire hunter D would be. Probably a lot like this, quiet. He didn’t clamor for D’s approval, but it seemed odd that they would never have a real conversation. There were brooding, quiet types, but D did seem to take the highest price. Of course, with that face, perhaps it didn’t matter what you said to gain social favor. It could be part this that made Oleyo less than enthusiastic about traveling with the dhampir. Lydia was not bothered by D’s beauty.
Eventually he was able to climb into his bike, soothed by its welcoming awakening. He would not close it completely on this journey. If there were a few words exchanged between his partner and their new traveling companion, he wanted to hear it, and have his own input. "How fast is that horse of yours, D?" he asked, head lifted outside the pod of well assembled glass parts. D looked back at him, down at him. It made Oleyo turn the switch with his thumb and have the bike dart away.
D then looked to Lydia. "Competitive, your partner." he noted before lowering his head, brim masking him completely before sending his own mode of transpiration after Oleyo.
