Amethyst Scorpion

Which little birdie?

I mean, it's easier to track it if it's all in one message than if it was spread out over the course of 2 days, right? *Padme Face* Right?

Hm... who to vote for. Amber Vulture did well yesterday, and Coral Swan did great too! But Amethyst Scorpion has been training really hard, and Cream Tuatara seems so popular. Then again, Salmon Meerkat just seems like a swell fella.

According to Google, yes. And knees

Poor Indigo Weasel.

"Lemme put 5 boxings on Coral Swan in the Freestyle 400." "Go ahead and put 5 more boxings on Salmon Meerkat in the Balancing Beam while you're at it."

That would be very funny. Harder than it sounds to try and actually pull it off I think.

"It could be anybody's game Steve. Why I'm even putting my entire life savings on Magenta Albatross and Sage Kangaroo." - Sportscaster Roger "Well Roger, you sure won't be catching me doing that. I'm saving up for a trip to Miami this Fall!" - Sportscaster Steve

*Scorpion sounds*

I would like to vote for Amethyst Scorpion for the Freestyle 200. And to follow the trend, Coral Swan for the Balance Beam.

Let's do this!

A handful of herbs swirls back into the Hound and Hustle. Straight twigs, actually, rosemary stems with the herb itself stripped from them. They fall in a pattern on the floor, and Mihtig briefly pops in to arrange them into runes. Malmoc is half a block away when they are finally in a readable arrangement:

“Why do you think?” Malmoc said irritably, calling Mihtig to him off Aralis’ head. “Once you might have missed a claim to metals, but twice bespeaks an unwillingness to look that not even the strongest coriander can overpower. Why we are being so free with this knowledge, I really cannot say. But I am going somewhere to think about all of this. I invite people to recall the events that just happened, and look carefully, and smell carefully. Since we lost one of our only sources of protection, though, let’s make this night count. If the saboteurs have assassins, anyone could be dead by morning. Best to have something worth them killing you over before then.” He stalked out into the open night.

If only people were like herbs, and could be ground into a paste and smelt to determine their virtues, or lack thereof. Malmoc was waffling. The Jaist was wrong, so wrong, on many things, he believed, but did that make him evil? He still suspected he might be in league with Acks. The observer and Nibbles were beginning to unnerve him. Byrar was not to be trusted. The lurkers still lurked. They couldn’t all be in league together, could they? But no, for they were accusing one another. It all made so little sense to Malmoc, but he was willing to hear people out. He drew in a deep breath of thyme. People could not be crushed and smelt, but their breaths might yet betray their scent. These men and women would stand or fall by their words. “I would like to hear, from each of you, who you are accusing again, and why. Especially those of you who have not yet weighed in.”

Malmoc frowned. Why were so many jumping to the first conclusion that Hayden’s death was staged? Nibbles had his mind constantly on food (even if he under-seasoned it terribly) and should thus know that nobody eats himself unless desperate. Why would the saboteurs take action to try to gain a very small modicum of trust for one of their own, when they could further their numerical advantage immediately by committing to a serious raid or attack? If they were to try to convince the town of the innocence of one of their own, they would not have started with Hayden, the town drunk who had just murdered a man, but one of their more upstanding members. More likely they had gotten wind of his Allomantic powers. Malmoc hoped others in the village had the good sense to keep theirs quiet. While those with Bronze noses could always sniff out the mist-awakened, it would take them time, and any secrecy that could be kept till then may save the lives of those who could contribute most strongly to the town’s defence. And now Byrar was picking up the same line of reasoning. Rusts, Malmoc had tried to dissipate this wind before it blew this strongly. Were there not thirteen other townspeople in the inn? The child spoke more sense than any of the adults. Bless Sew. Mihtig had chosen well for her companion, when she wasn’t busy being the itchiest scarf on Scadrial. Malmoc rubbed more oregano into his nose to keep the smell of cat hair out of his nostrils. Strange, after so long, that it should still bother him. He was pleased with the girl’s observance, and hoped that she’d found something useful in her scanning of old memories. ( @Ivory Dragonfly) Another lurker towards the edge of the room of whom Malmoc did not much like the smell. Perhaps he trusted Hayden—that gave him more sense than many of the more vocal—but did he not have other ideas? If Chad continued to be content to hover below the town’s notice, something would eventually need to be done. Malmoc wanted to put his head through the wooden table at which he sat, and find an appropriate herb poultice for the subsequent headache. While Malmoc was also less than sure about the pair, at least they were not condemning a child for speaking common sense. The Jaist finally seemed to get it. He appreciated the man’s newfound willingness to solve, but was confused about his point on Sew. Why would the girl give Tyrian the rope with which to hang her? Malmoc swivelled to look at Acks. “What?” he asked. “An attack draws attention to Hayden, not the other way around. If he’d not been attacked, and spent the night safe in Tey’s guardhouse, they could’ve just deflected attention elsewhere today and been fine. It’s a poor attempt at deception since apparently half of Tyrian thinks it was a ploy to begin with. Also, Hayden’s Lurcher claims started coming long before he got into the spat with Alais. If he was a Thug all along, it’d have looked very silly if he’d been made to burn his pewter when Alais got the better of him. And you’d waste much more time making the village try to attack you multiple times—there’s no reason to burn his pewter in a false attempt on his own life. Sew is right. It just doesn’t make sense.” While Malmoc’s suspicion was still publicly on the Jaist, he wondered about the rest. The watcher in the corner (Falcon) had not given him the best impression recently, but he at least spurred the others on to conversation. He was now side-eyeing Byrar and Acks more than ever, and still wondered about the suspicion on the latter yesterday which had quickly dissipated. Nibbles, too, he was of two minds on. Behind the facade of silliness was an astute mind. What was it planning? He needed to think over this more.