Lula's Lovely Ladies

Odin was startled by Josen’s shortness. Perhaps he had underestimated this man’s distrust of he, Odin. He bore previous witness to this human in particular being downright gracious in general. Apparently he believed nearly as strongly as his red-headed companion in Odin’s insincerity. It was an obvious facet of this man to be strongly defensive in the face of what could be a threat to any one he cared about.

However, the shifter was content to let it lie at that. The more time he spent around the man – not to mention the others he’d fallen in with – the better he’d learn the patterns of their consciousness, the way their minds rotated and seethed and moved, and before long it would be with unnoticeable ease that he could look. For now, he would have to be content with a few small mysteries.

As they reached the city, Josen drew his stallion to a halt. Odin, whose mare wore reins and a bridle only to avoid questions, relaxed his seat and the horse’s feet froze where they’d last fallen, at an instant standstill. He arched a brow in Josen’s direction and patiently awaited what he assumed would be orders on how to behave and what to look for while in Bizmar.

Occasionally Odin made a game of assessing a human’s sentences individually…in a way challenging himself not to be forced to use his sight to know what they truly meant. In this instance he did the same.

"I wanted you to accompany me for several reasons, the first one being I wanted a capable fighter and while I haven't yet witnessed your skills, it takes either a confident man or a fool to enter a camp of armed travelers and announce the kind of information that you did.”

Ah, this one was a lovely puzzle. The man first answered Odin’s initial, and only question. Or, began to answer it, anyway. He wanted a capable fighter, which was generally an attempt to flatter, Odin was sure, but then Josen neatly remedied the statement of any complimentary quality whatsoever with what followed – all that about being confident or being a fool. If Odin was human and thus bore the tendency to do so, he would have had to repress a wry smile. Josen knew, as smart men knew, that Odin was powerful. It came from being around someone who exuded it, just as Odin would know, without bothering to look, that Josen was as well.

“I'm guessing you're the former.”

Those words called for no translation. Josen was being directly honest, a rare quality in humankind, to admit that a threat had reason to be confident. Which, of course, he wasn’t directly doing, but Odin knew from practice that a quick look would reveal as much.

“Second, for the hires that were trailing us. If they are still looking then your presence will throw them off, if only slightly.”

Odin speculated as to whether this statement was straightforward or not. If it was, then there was nothing to read into it, but if it was not, then Josen had a further inkling of Odin’s abilities than the shifter would have supposed. He could certainly conceal Josen and himself from the notice of any one, at any time he chose. Not that he felt that strongly about protecting this cocky youngster just yet, but he was more and more inclined toward a degree of respect for this man. After all, Josen was reasonable enough to identify an important information wielder and was willing to take large risks for the overall benefit of his mission. It was rare and admirable for the human race to be brave in such a way.

Odin didn’t bother with further interpretation through the remainder of Josen’s announcement. So, the man was being straightforward. As he voiced his suspicions concerning Odin’s abilities directly, the shifter allowed his expression to move into one of displeased surprise for a moment, just a shadow of emotion. It would be necessary to appear guilty in a nearly undetectable way that he knew Josen would recognize.

And then the matter of the rest of the silly group and their requirement to discuss how to defend themselves against Odin, or at least be prepared to do so. The shifter was bored by that topic, because he knew, frankly, that he could dispose of them all without thinking twice about it, not to bother mention of their absolute inability to harm him in any real way. He was always disappointed in creatures that chose to behave as if he was beneath their control, no matter how many times he reminded himself that they had no comprehension of what he was.

That brought his thoughts directly to Tamy, and he wondered if his communication with the girl had been a mistake. If Sai’a allowed the child to connect with her, as he knew Tamy would strive to do, the risk of Tamy confiding in the female would be great. Of course, he could probably remove the memory of their encounter from the girl’s mind altogether, but in a conscious like hers, with its dense understanding of itself, he could easily cripple her mentality forever by meddling in that way.

At Odin’s abrupt “Any questions?”, Odin was moved to ask what Josen believed this man knew about his son, but he figured that it would be a waste of words. Instead he shook his head, and the two continued toward Bizmar’s gates.

Shortly before they reached them, Odin dismounted the mare, removed her bridle and stowed it in a saddle bag, and left her standing, peacefully resting a hind leg, as they moved into the city. He didn’t care for the hassle of paying attention to where she was in this city, as it was full of horse thieves and otherwise shady varieties of the human race. Not that he held anything against any one belonging to either category…if anything, they fascinated him more agreeably than any of the rest. After all, they were perfect examples of their race at its natural state. Inclined toward dishonesty, lust, greed, and violence, Bizmar’s scoundrels and cutthroats were a delightful relief to Odin in many ways. He was continually annoyed by the more “reputable” human’s severe disregard for their instincts, and constant fight to “do the right thing”. When would these creatures learn that the fights and causes in their small lives all had selfish reasoning behind them, leading one to the obvious conclusion that there were no selfless acts, and no just causes. Not that that demeaned the importance of holding onto what one desires to hold onto, but that these monotonous attempts to swim against the current all through their lives were pointless.

Odin considered requesting that they separate, but it was unlikely that Josen would allow it, although he couldn’t predict the man’s response with certainty. Anyway, it would be better to simply find the man straightaway. He was growing weary of the human form, and not until the other humans were peacefully resting could he chance shifting into the wolf or hawk for a nighttime escapade.

He opened his mind fully into the sight. Unlike Tamy, who had to consciously decide to move into that second plane, Odin existed there, for the most part. When he had been very young and totally absorbed only in acquiring new forms, he hadn’t bothered to hone himself, personally, and had been a part of the creature and its instincts at all times, with that animal’s own perceptions and ignorances. Now, he maintained himself constantly, and the conscious decision lay in whether or not he would lose himself in the animal, not whether or not he would extract himself from it.

At this moment he extended beyond the body, centering in the physical energy that composed what he was. While Josen had described the man, more than his words had carried over into Odin’s astute ears. The very essence, and appearance of, this man named Abe, had been subtly broadcasted. It was so when someone described something carefully…without meaning to, a mental image and, beyond that, basic absorption of the person they were portraying arose. It had been with a child’s skill that Odin had plucked that vision from Josen’s mind. He didn’t know if Josen had noticed or not, and was beginning not to care.

He found him directly, in one of Bizmar’s most lovely establishments. Realizing that striking off and expecting Josen to follow was probably an unwise course of action, he came back into himself and turned to his companion.

“Actually, that man sounds like someone I saw when I was in the city today. Maybe he’s still at the same place I found him?”

At Josen’s allowing nod, Odin moved forward through the crowds, through a tangle of streets through which he exuded a subtle shot of concealment that prevented the general cutthroats’ interference, until they came before the sagging countenance of “Lula’s Lovely Ladies”, name thus depicted in fading red paint above the silhouettes of two scandalously clad, but notably voluptuous human females.

“Shall we?” He asked his companion cordially, and allowed Josen to precede him through the doors, beyond which both an obnoxious amount of sound, and the rather sour smell of sweat and old perfume, dominated the air.