Max hadn't wanted to leave the altar.

But his stomach was rumbling, and he had someone he wanted to talk to.

And he wasn't sure where to find them, but last he'd seen them they'd been in Polaris, so that's where he'd went. It wasn't a guarantee, of course, but it was worth a try.

He'd found food, and he intended on finding some for the Black Dog as well, but his mouth was red with the small Cave Rat he'd swallowed down (not what he'd have preferred, left to turn to goo and eaten then, but that was harder to carry), and he was already looking for something to bring the Black Dog.

He looked around, put his nose to the air. There were shiny things, and he wanted nothing more than to chase them, run off and play, but this was important, very important, so he forced himself to focus, though his muscles twitched, and his tail wagged violently, fighting the urge to bolt away after them.

And then, of all things, a Wind Hopper!

He scrambled forward, bolting after it, darting and zig-zagging after it as the Windhopper fled, but he was faster as he'd caught it by surprise, and it was dead quickly, laying at his paws. Now... just to find the friendly-pokey-man. So the dog looked around, hoping he wouldn't be too mad about his pretty gemstone, and called out, "Friendly Pokey Man? Hello? Are you there?"

And there he was.

Surely the Collector hadn't been following Max..? Gleefully rubbing his hands together, perhaps, a caricature of cheerful villainry? Following him from place to place, stifling snickers as he waited to be summoned?

Certainly not; the Collector had much more dignity than that.

...Still, he flashed into visibility with startling speed. Suspiciously startling-

"Yessss?" he crooned, and his grin was audible beneath the hood. "From the..." The head lifted; the soft sound of sniffing came. Then his voice, oily-slick and unpleasantly sweet. "...taste of you, you've found it..?"

@Max

The dog yelped as the Collector 'popped' into view, jumping an inch or so before wagging his tail in a friendly way, "Hello!" and his grin only spread further when he was acknowledged, nodding his head, "I did! I did, and with others! A black dog and a fluffy cat, a pair of squishies too! but the squishies left," the ':C' was obvious in his voice as his tail paused in its wagging, "It was a stone place in the dark, there was talking but I couldn't see who. It was interesting!" He stared at the Collector hopefully, "Will I live? Did I save others? Did I do good?"

He paused, and then seemed to wilt, slumping his shoulders so low his nose nearly touched the ground, "I am sorry, your gem broke."

A grin twisted the Collector's features beneath his hood.

"Oh, yes, you've-... saved the others. As for whether you will live--I cannot say. That is in your--err, paws, noble hound."

Saved, yes; he'd seen them, trooping down into the hole, one at a time, subjecting themselves to what lay within. It was perfect, really.

"Ahh, fear not, about the crystal, Max; it was intended for such. It served its purpose. As for what happens next, well-... As they say? Follow your nose!" A short, sharp laugh; a pat upon Max's head, if he allowed it, and then the Collector was gone.

@Max

His eyes widened-he'd saved them! Yes, he'd saved them! His tail wagged hard enough that it spread to his rump, then the rest of him, leaving him to dance from paw to paw, he was a good boy! A very good boy then! And a noble hound at that! He puffed up, puffing out his chest and trying to look noble, very noble, but considering his tail was still going and flailing his lower half around he didn't quite pull it off.


And, oh, he was glad to hear that the friendly man wasn't upset about the crystal, but, "Still, it was very pretty, so I am sorry." but then he got a pat on his head and perked up, wagging his tail, and the pointy man was gone. He stepped back, looking confused when he found that the windhopper had turned to goop, but it looked tasty and so he licked it up, retched at the taste, wondered if it would taste better the second time and lapped at it again until it was gone, but as he did so his two halves of a brain cell managed to collide together in a very rare occasion, and he raised his head to whimper,

"Rings?"

sounding positively heartbroken.

Corruption: +2

The Collector, halfway to making good his escape, paused and flinched. Rings. The damn hound had wanted his rings, hadn't he?

He grinned, without humor, teeth gritted, and pivoted one one hoof to turn back.

"Do you want small rings, like mine?" and the voice now came from behind Max; "Because those do hurt to put in. Or do you want one big, nice, golden collar..?" His grin expanded behind the hood. "I'd ask a little favor for that one, though... It belonged to an old friend."

@Max

When the Collector turned back to him, Max's expression could best be described as positively ecstatic, tail wagging violently as his whole body waggled and flailed, prancing from paw to paw as though the Collector was the best person ever.

Perhaps a smarter dog would have registered the Collector's frustration.

Max was not a smarter dog.

Max was, always had been, and always would be, an idiot.

He wrinkled his muzzle in thought, tilting his head, but he'd already made up his mind; he'd never been good at making decisions, and he'd already had his mind made up. "I want small rings! I like how they look on you and they look cool and I want to be cool too!"

His tongue lolled out and his tongue wagged; Max is not a smart dog.

The Collector shrugged internally. Well, don't say I didn't warn you. "Hold very still, then," he suggested; and then hands, withdrawing from cloak, came out with half a dozen small, gold rings. Two were polished, two dull, and two were intricately etched with various sigils and details.

Piercings were unkind on the best of days, and usually one would, say, numb and disinfect the area. The Collector was not such a one. The snapping home of rings--as many as Max allowed; should he balk after one, or allow all six--would drive home holes in ears, lips and brow.

_________

Max will be inflicted (?) with at least one gold ring, up to a maximum of six, if he allows; these have no magical value but may cause infection if not periodically cleaned.

@Max

Max was a very good boy, so he nodded and did his best to obey, bracing his paws against the ground and whimpering at the top of his lungs and the pains as the piercings were shoved into his ears, his brow, but it was the lips that broke him--he squealed as the pain shot through him, and scrambled back, releasing his bladder even as he went to his belly, wagging his tail placatingly, "Thank you I love these they are pretty you are a good friend and I love you," before scrambling to his paws and fleeing for the hills.

-exit Max-