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The Burning Sky #3:
Every few steps, it made a hissing melancholy noise that sounded very much like human frustration. Once it sat very still for quite a few moments while I waited patiently for it to do something else, but got its legs under it again, and walked on.
“What could you be?” I wondered aloud, half afraid to approach it further.
Sometimes the mechanicals can tell a body, but not this one. The beastie kept to its determined peregrination as if it had a destination in mind.
Curiosity pushed against my common sense, coupled with my lack of funds—I hadn’t been paid for a few of my past jobs, and was just getting by, thankful for summer’s bounty in the woods and fields and that I was a good shot. Perhaps the mechanical was lost and the owner would pay a handsome reward; or ransom, if its owner lacked courtesy and generosity.
“Perhaps a messenger? But why make you crawl? Have your wings broken off?”