When you’re done, your voice is hoarse from shouting, but “Boulder” is sitting at Grimjar’s heel and looking joyfully into his eyes as blood drips from her massive mouth. Thankfully this time the blood isn’t from the countless villages she devoured before the people sent for you.
You will remember next time to look away before Grimjar gives Boulder her treat for good behavior.
You cup your hands over your mouth, standing on Grimjar’s shoulder as close to his massive ear as possible. You still have to shout and your voice breaks.
“And now you treat and praise! Then we’ll call it a day and I’ll be back in two weeks to check up on you!”
Your voice is so raw that even with your hands cupped and yelling, Grimjar thinks for a long moment before he holds up a massive thumb in agreement. You’re relieved. So very very relieved.
He holds his palm flat and you climb his index finger and into his palm. You’re brought to the ground and Boulder looks at you only once before returning eye contact to Grimjar. When your body recovers from this ordeal you’ll be proud of yourself for accomplishing so much so quickly. Just that morning Boulder was the scourge of the entire countryside.
You’re smart enough to look away when Grimjar pulls the live cow from his pocket and it moos once nervously. You hear the crunch of Boulder’s jaws and Grimjar’s booming “GOOD GIRL, BOULDER. THAT’S A HEEL.”
You nearly fall over as the valley rumbles with his words.
He squats down in front of you, his three eyes glowing as he blinks.
“TINY TRAINER CAN STAY?!” You’re knocked over by the force of his words, blessedly his breath smells just of old rock and older soil, but the gust of wind makes your butt hit the hard earth.
“No thank you!” Your voice is too broken to even try shouting, so you wave your arms in the agreed ‘no’ position and he rumbles a disappointed sound in his chest that shakes the earth so hard you bounce.
“TINY TRAINER COME BACK IN HOW MANY MOONS?” You’re rolled a few feet by those words through the dust and rocks, but his hopeful tone is somehow also apologetic and you painstakingly force your sore and tense muscles to push you back to your feet. You can barely imagine the trek back to the trail that will take you to the town, which will take you to the train, and then back to the city. You can barely imagine taking a few steps let alone doing a four hour hike. You did not think this through.
You manage to jump up and down fourteen times for fourteen days.
“PAYMENT?” He asks and you hadn’t thought of that. Somehow you remain standing as you think about it. You waggle your arms to indicate you don’t know. He hums thoughtfully and your legs almost go numb from the vibration.
He turns slowly, turning away from you before returning with…
“Is that a car?” Your voice is a whisper, but he puts the Lambourgini down in front of you. It’s black and chrome and so pretty. “Is that-?”
“TREASURE,” Grimjar explains, and the car’s alarm goes off, which makes Boulder start barking.
“NO.” Grimjar tells her. “NO BARKING.” The command makes an avalanche rumble down the far side of the mountain, but you’re still staring at the car, which is why you are able to avoid seeing it when Boulder stops barking and Grimjar says “GOOD GIRL, BOULDER. THAT’S A NO.” And there’s another horrifying moo-crunch.
You open the door of the Lambo and there’re keys in the ignition, and a title on the seat. There’s a story to this car that you might not like the end of, but the title and the car itself are there. You look thoughtfully up at him.
“ROAD ON OTHER SIDE OF MOUNTAIN,” Grimjar explains. “TAKE TREASURE TO CITY.”
Well that sure beats a hike and a long train ride. You lift both hands above your head for ‘yes’ and Grimjar makes a pleased sound.
You get in the car and Grimjar’s massive hand closes around the Lamborghini and you’re abruptly in the air. A flying car, you think hysterically.
In no time at all your car is being placed on a service road of some kind marked “Scenic Route 1″ facing the wrong direction, but at least only taking up one of the two lanes. At Grimjar’s side, Boulder leans down to sniff the car.
“BOULDER, OFF.” Grimjar’s voice shakes the car and the road, and Boulder licks the car, her massive mouth opening around you. Damn, you think, and today was turning out so well too. Now I’m going to be eaten by a monster wolf the size of football field.
“NO, BOULDER. OFF!” Grimjar’s voice is louder and a little angrier, which you tried to explain to him not to do, but in this instance you don’t care if training tips go out the window. You’d rather not be a chew toy.
Thankfully Boulder backs off.
“GOOD GIRL BOULDER,” Grimjar’s voice says above your car, “THAT’S AN OFF.”
You hear a sickening crunch above you, and blood rains down over your fancy new car.
Your forehead hits the steering wheel. And responding to the stimuli your car begins the windshield wipers automatically. You moan miserably.
“SORRY,” Grimjar says, and he picks your car up and swings around, clearly to dunk you in the lake to wash you off.
As you lean out the window to wave your hands wildly in the ‘no’ position, the day that refuses to end gets longer, and your path home longer still.