COLLECTOR! I'VE COME TO BARGAIN!

James was here (and queer) in Canis for a rather... trivial reason. He neither had hands nor the resources to make something suitable to carry his young, and the only way to get to Pegasus in a decent amount of time was to fly. He could trust Comet to keep herself stable on his back, but a tiny newborn foal (he hoped it was a foal, he didn't even know what the child would look like, it could turn out to be a potato for all he knew) couldn't be trusted to stay on. He needed a sling. Something comfortable and sturdy to withstand flight and weight. His net bags worked for fruits and small things, but not a child.

He'd even brought some fruit in said net bag as an offering, though he doubted just a bag of fruit would be enough for a sling.

"Collector!", he called out. He'd been calling out a lot, lately.

Pride, then Khloros, then Mercy- his poor vocal chords.

He'd have to hope that the Collector answered to his more common name. If he had a different one then... Maybe he could make a stop to see Eythan instead after this and ask how Avi was and talk about his child too- he was such a dad. All he could think about were his children. At least he was still free to roam around and explore with Comet. She loved their outings- wait. He was here to see the Collector. Focus!

In the distance, the gentle strum of a string instrument.

A guitar? A banjo-? Oh, but there was no name for this; for it was made of polished bone and strung with sinew. It sounded damn good, though; each note rang rich through Canis, a harmony with what had come before. The melody was cheerful, yet achingly lonely; stoic, but mournful, all at once.

And there, a bit ahead: the Collector, playing, hooded head down and clawed fingers strumming. He sat atop one of the mounds, hooves idly crossed.

The music faded, quieted, slowed, as he looked up at James. Red eyes stared unblinking, and a smiling voice spoke. "I am the Collector;" and its croon was smooth, "How might I be of service today?"

A final note--discordant, this--and the instrument was set to one side, the clawed hands resting in his lap, giving James his full attention.

James perked up at the sound of music, blinking gently before trotting forward. He lifted his wings and flew, taking flight and quickly descending again, landing gently in front of the Colletor.

"Ah- hello," he said kindly, "That was very beautiful. I've never heard music like that before, you have a gift to be able to create it."

He bent his head down and used a wing to push off the bag around his neck, placing down the bag of fruit, "Um, I collected some fruit- not as a trading item, just because I um... I thought it would be nice to share something sweet."

He shifted nervously and cleared his throat, "Um- sorry for rambling. I have need of something to carry a child- a baby Gembound- in. Specifically- well, hopefully, a foal. Foal-shaped. They haven't hatched yet, but I wish to bring them to a new home once they are."

He very gently nudged the fruit forward and ruffled his feathers, taking a deep breath to calm his rambling.

"I just want something sturdy- like a sling? I'm afraid my own creations- like the bag I brought- won't be strong enough. And I really don't want to drop my child accidentally," he said, getting himself nervous all over again from the thought of it.

Goodness- he wasn't doing good at this at all! It wasn't his fault the Collector was a bit intimidating, he just hoped he wasn't being disrespectful.

A brief bow, a polite pluck, and an apple rested in one clawed hand. The Collector examined it, and then simply held it; "Why, thank you so very much. It is rare to find one so polite-! Both your comments and gift are wholly appreciated; please, do join me."

The apple was lifted into the hood. A sharp crunch, and it came away with a sharp-toothed bite missing. After chewing, swallowing, he spoke again. "Tell me, with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking-? I believe I missed your name."

James smiled, shuffling a bit bashfully, "Oh- you're welcome! Thank you too."

He bent his neck and picked up an apple in his mouth, biting it in half and letting the rest fall in front of him to snack on in a moment. He swallowed his mouthful and lifted his head again, ears perked forward.

"My name is James," he said, "Do you have a name other than the Collector? It's an impressive title- one would think you'd go for something like... the Trader with how much trading you do with us Gembound. Are you called the Collector because you collect things from us?"

He ate up the last of his apple, not really minding anything the other did. Unless he became hostile, then he'd remain docile. He wasn't one to judge by teeth and claws, but by character. So far, the Collector seemed nice.

Ahh, if only he'd heard this name; the things he could have told James-! But he had not, and so he simply bowed his head with a deep incline--just short of a flourish, really--before responding.

"James; a fine name. Never fear--the Collector will do just fine. And it is because in ages past, and still today, I am the one to haunt the forgotten places, and find those things left behind. Useful, powerful, or simply interesting, hm? Amusingly enough, from all your kind, you are the first to have the presence of mind to ask me such a question," he added, his tone one of warm approval.

"As for what you ask, well; the last such item I gave away, for carrying, was a legged sled. A strange, but kindly creation. That would, I think, have been your best bet; not as fast as flying, perhaps, but then you may find your wings weary carrying a child in flight past a certain age..." The Collector considered, thinking. Another bite of his apple, then. "There was a wagon, too, but that one-... I would not recommend putting children on that one."

Eyes widened a tad, the pinprick crimson seeming to swell beneath the cowl. "There may be something... that I can adapt. But it will take time," he added, thinking--and then glanced at James. "Tell me, young one: how long before the little one comes-?"

James smiled, "Well... I suppose I'm curious. I like to know things, and I like to hear stories."

He loved hearing people's stories. Backstories, adventures, hardships, jokes and tales of hilarity. It made everyone happy to share things.

"Oh- I was friends with the person you gave the sled to. A shy little thing, it was," he said, "I don't know what happened to it, I left him a while ago. I hope it's okay."

He seemed worried for it. After a moment, though, he looked back up at the Collector and quickly shook his head.

"Oh no- I assure you, I don't need anything fancy," he said, "It doesn't even have to look nice, it could be hideous for all I care. I'm traveling from Orion to one of the new caves, flying seems like the fastest way. I don't wish to put my child through too much stress and I thought that being close to me might calm them a bit through the journey. But... Hm. If it's not too much trouble, could you tell me what it is?"

James counted the days, brows furrowed as he tried to remember...

"Two weeks and two days," he finally said, "I've um... been counting. I'm eager to greet them, you see, and I count to ensure that if I go anywhere, I can make it back with time to spare before they hatch."

He offered a soft smile, ruffling his wings a bit.

"Ahh, yes; I adore stories. I have not heard a good new story in quite some time."

A pause, as James spoke.

'I was friends with the person you gave the sled to.'

Tragedy-! That 'was;' it removed all sorts of fun potential. Still-... There was no point in turning away from it, was there? The Collector at once affected a sorrowful demeanor: a bow of his head, a soft sigh. "Oh, I would not worry about-... the sled too much, James. Not the sled; it will return if harmed. The cost to subdue it, however, was great," and his tone fell into a mournful hush. Crimson eyes lifted and there was every sign of sympathy, of honesty, as he continued--embellishing, of course, where he saw fit.

Ahh, but the Collector did love a good story.

"I had told that one--Aristotle was its name, I believe?--that the sled would require magic to return to life. He chose to bring me the stones of the unhatched--those who could still be returned to life. They... did contain magic, of course, but his choice-! A terrible thing, to steal potential lives, but alas, I was bound by contract. I would have preferred to see those children live, and flourish. Three lives, he took," and the Collector offered another deep sigh, another shake of that hooded head. "Alas, perhaps the cave is not the kindest place, regardless. Perhaps... it was for the best. On to... the present, hm? No point, I suppose, in dwelling in the past," but his tone was still full of what sounded like soft grief.

He left a long and thoughtful pause, as if it were taking him a moment to shift his thoughts back to the here and now.

"It was a... harness, though I can refit it, I think. It must have belonged to a creature larger than you, but I am certain I could size it down, perhaps add a sling. I believe it also lightens the weight of whatever is drawn--it might apply to carrying, I do not yet know. These things often have a drawback, mind you--enchantments can be fickle things--but I do not know what it might be."

And here he waited, with bated breath, to see what James' reaction might be. How well had the pegasus known Aristotle-? How close had they been; and had he already been told this tragic tale..?

James' breath hitched. His eyes narrowed.

"... He gave three stones to you, and brought home two," he mumbled, "... Of course."

He sounded... disappointed. And tired.

"So we were right," he mumbled, "He did wish to keep children for himself."

He stamped a foot and shook his head, "I'm sorry, Collector. So terribly sorry- I don't want to speak about him. The conflict he had was... scarring. I'd rather not dig up memories I've buried. I'm not ready to face them yet."

I can't believe it... he murdered children! For a sled! Nothing would be worth the price of such a sin! Could he not have asked for a better price to pay? Or turned away entirely? If they had truly mattered, then he would have returned empty-handed and we could have just carried it all.

James sighed, his opinion of the lion unchanged. Such a thing was unforgivable.

"A sling that relieves weight? That is certainly useful, I only hope that outweighs whatever drawbacks there might be," he said, returning his attention to the Collector, his emotions still rather stable, though his brows were furrowed. "What kind of payment are you looking for?"

The Collector showed nothing of his glee. So the two had been close, then; and the lion hadn't told this one.

How excellent-! A wonderful story indeed.

"Ahh, I am--terribly sorry. I didn't realize you were close." Ahh, what a firm and kindly promise. As for payment-... He'd have to be careful, with this one. He had something good, here; to go too far would be to tip the winged horse off. To drive its newfound believe away.

He also had to be careful not to push too hard into this topic, and yet... Ahh, the delightful possibilities.

"Given the... solemnity of the situation, I will ask but one thing. I detested what he asked me to do. He kept two stones, in greed; would you find and warn the children who hatch from it; warn him what he has done? I would hate to see what he might--ahh, but this may distress you, hmm? It may be the right thing to do, but if it is too difficult for you I will find something else, and we shan't discuss it further."