Warning! The following may contain bad spelling, grammar, punctuation, cardboard characters, cheesy plots, offensive NSFW material, and / or puns. Reader discretion is advised.
“He captures lightning and turns it to his own uses. Further proof that he is using dark powers.” Tyrie spat on the ground. “We should not trust him.”
“He knows this area and we do not. He may be of use.” Thara’s tone made it understood that she would brook no further argument.
Kree was busy searching the ground. She was probably the best tracker of the group. She knelt and felt the concrete sidewalk, running her fingers over it. She looked around at the buildings nearby. Many of them seemed to be made from stone and metal.
“Is your whole world made of rock?” Kree asked. “This will make it more difficult to track the beast.”
Erlenmeyer looked around. “Yeah, I can see where you’d get that idea. We’re in a city, a large one. Most of it is concrete and steel, but we have parks with trees and grass and stuff. When you get further out into the suburbs there are a lot more plants. Then even further out you have farms where the food gets grown.”
“Such an odd way to organize your lives.” Kree said. “There are no tracks to follow in this stone. I’ll see if I can find the blood trail. The beast is wounded so we’ll have to follow it that way.”
Searching the nearby area she found several drops of blood. “This way.” Kree started down the street.
“Look, you know my name. What do I call you?” Erlenmeyer moved down the sidewalk with the group. “You seem to be the leader, what’s your name?”
“I am Thara.” She pointed to each of the warriors as she called their names. “These are my sisters, Seeko, Kree, Tyrie, and Uldu.”
“All sisters, huh? Do they have a lot of big families where you come from?”
“Only Seeko is my blood. But we are all sisters in spirit. We are the best hunters of our tribe. We hunt the Trantor beast for honor. Killing the beast protects our tribe and shows that we are the finest hunters.”
“Kind of the rock stars of the tribe, huh?”
Seeko looked at him. “How do you know the stars are made out of rock? Is this more of your dark powers?”
“Oh geez, how do I explain this?” Erlenmeyer ran his fingers through his hair. “The stars aren’t made out of rock. In my world, people make music. You have music where you come from, yes?”
Seeko nodded in agreement.
“Well, here the style of music is called rock and roll. The people who are really good at it and make tons of money are called rock stars. They, uh, they are the finest music makers in our tribe.”