Bold claim that he’d be able to win the entire carnival aside, of the three that tromped their way to its many games, Fahl was the last of them. In part, the enthusiastic reception Nemean had given his ruse could be blamed; encouragement from one as despicable as her was like being slathered in fresh shit—warm and utterly disgusting. So unexpected had it been that for a moment he merely stood there, too surprised by the effect of his introduction to do much else.

No attempts were made to speak any further. No doubt dumb stutters would have left his mouth instead of intelligent thought. And no sooner had the queasiness that’d knotted his intestines begun to subside than Imp exploded over the mockery neither of them appreciated.

The tension in the immediate area should have ratcheted up by multiple degrees. Fahl’s shoulders should’ve tensed in preparation for the possible retribution that his teacher’s insolence might bring down upon them. At least, that would’ve been sensible, given his strong apprehension of the awful sprite and her sick sense of humor. Instead, for the iguana, the ranting accomplished the opposite. Sharp vitriol poked a hole into the balloon of negative emotion swelling against his ribcage, and enraged pressure and pain slowly bled away from his form as a cathartic sigh.

Despite the relief of voiced displeasure, a faint touch of disappointment emerged in anger’s absence. Directness had its virtues as Fahl understood well: the efficiency involved saved his tongue from many an unnecessary and tiresome flap. But in the here and now, as frustrating as it could be, tip-toeing around true motivations had been preferable to openly stating a desire to drag Nemean through every possible mud puddle on the way to Cetus. Now that she knew their intentions, who knew how she’d react.

While he settled into a more comfortable slouch from his original prideful pose, murky eyes moved from Imp to Nemean and back. He sharply inhaled at the trivialization of the other Masters’ plight. On his next few exhales, steam would have risen from his breath if he’d bothered to use magic, sympathetic to the ongoing outpouring of red-hot indignation.

So she'd done the deed with this orb, and of course had lost it to these carny creatures. It seemed a little too good to be true, yet another game she wanted to string others along for, but it was all they had to go off of.

Considering Imp's blindness, following in his steps wouldn't have been too terrible of an idea. However, it covered far less ground, taking into account that Nemean had given no clue as to who might have her tool. Never mind that tailing him so closely felt almost like distrust of the batgator's capabilities, not letting him blunder and bluster about the carnival on his own terms. Therefore whereas one headed for demonstrations of strengths and staying willpower, the other broke away from the trail to go where something referred to as a ball toss was loudly advertised.

Being naturally low to the ground, some accommodations had to be made so that he could even see the rings he was supposed to aim for. Stubby forelegs not exactly the best for throwing, he resorted to clamping his mouth down on the grimy ball he was given instead. Then, craning his neck as far back as he could possibly achieve, he swung his chin forward and let the object fly from his grip.

And almost gave himself a serious case of whiplash from trying so hard.

Neck aching, brain rattling inside of its case, it took Fahl a good minute to recover from what should've been apparent to him as a terrible method of throwing a ball when lacking the arm reach and opposable thumbs for the job. His vision wasn't in the best shape, shaking as eye sockets vibrated in place, but hearing still worked fine; the overseeing carny's giggle-snorts rang loud and clear to him, so that when they turned to gasps and then hoots and hollers, those were noticed as well.

"Well, shit," was his remark once he learned what all the commotion was about. Talk about fast. He'd been expecting far more of an ordeal in locating the orb or the whole thing to be a set up so that Nemean could slip away without any chance of consequences for her behavior. But this pig had actually managed to get it.

And now they needed something to carry it away. If the lucky winner would even go along with them.

"Fffu..." Fahl swallowed the cuss before it could fully form. "Does anyone have... something to wrap it up with? Maybe there's a prize like that."