Chapter Text
The pursuers kicked up dirt and sand as they stormed down the street. Sunlight burned the air. The craggy shadow of a large figure raced across the side of one of the buildings and ducked into the nearest alleyway.
A thin breeze passed over the caramel apple cloak hugging their shoulders. Its fabric had just the right amount of red undertone to blend into the surroundings and was tattered enough to suggest that the owner didn’t have anything worth stealing.
The march of footsteps closed in. They halted in front of the entrance to the alley just as the stranger managed to turn another corner, further cloaking themself in the darkness.
No, not “the stranger”. They need an actual name. “Grox” surfaced in their mind, but no, that one already belonged to someone with too big of a reputation in the Crimson Waste. How about… Erif? Yes, that’d be the name of this one.
Erif pressed their back against the wall and looked back, making sure the disinterested expression on their mask was perfect in case someone else was watching them. Eyebrows scrunched together, but only close enough for them to look curious instead of worried. The dim shade hid the rest of their features.
“You! Stop right there!”
Instinct almost made Erif recoil before they reminded themself that there was no need to panic. That command wasn’t for them.
The voice that slithered down the alley belonged to a tall reptilian figure wearing a simple tunic and pair of trousers, both a drab gray and brown color scheme that everyone in this place seemed to prefer. A green hue tinged her clothes, which contrasted with her dull red scales.
On the back of her shirt shone a golden insignia of a snake eating its own tail, representing the previously meager Crimson Waste crew that had started growing in popularity after the chaos left behind by Prime’s occupation. Four other figures stood behind her—she was the leader, then—wearing the same same symbol on their jackets, armor, whatever they could get it on. The only one unadorned with the badge stood hunched in front of the group. The short, furry fellow trembled with fear as the leader addressed them.
Her forked tongue slithered out along with her voice, “Have you seen anyone matching this description?” She held out a sheet of paper which crinkled in her clutches. “Or anyone who looks close enough to this? We’re trying to find a shapeshifter.”
One of the crew members behind her cut in, “Maybe this is the shapeshifter. We should bring them in just in case.”
“We’re not just going to capture every single person we think might be our target,” she hissed at him.
The target flinched while the other two argued. They sputtered and tried to come up with a satisfying answer.
The leader sighed. “Look, we’re not trying to scare you. Just tell us if you’ve seen anything suspicious around here and we’ll leave.”
“‘Not trying to scare you’?” That same person behind her mocked with a snort. “You really are going soft, Vedette.”
“Shut up, Craig.”
Erif hummed to themself and turned away. They were in the clear. For now.
With a soft step, they slipped away. Voices grew faint as the shadows consumed the retreating figure. Soon, they were out of sight.
The alley led further into the crowd of buildings. Fabric tarps stretched across their tops, giving the space a dim, dingy atmosphere. No one followed them as they trudged down the narrow pathways. Each path diverged and converged with no discernible pattern. Indiscernible to someone who wasn’t familiar to them, at the very least. Erif kept an even pace through the specific twists and turns that they knew would lead them out of this place the quickest. A number of solitary figures stood hunched against the walls along the way, eyeing Erif as they walked by. One of them, a scrappy little thing with goat horns, slowly moved his hand towards his weapon.
Erif bared their fangs at him. The scrappy thief-to-be retreated with a stumble and moved his hand back. No one gave them any trouble after that.
It was no surprise that this part of the wastes was deadlier than the open streets. It looked calm enough, but the slightest misstep would result in any unlucky fool losing all their belongings. Valuables changed hands faster than one could say, “Help, someone stole my things!”
Erif got closer to the outskirts of the city. There were still a few people standing around this far out, but not enough to give them trouble. One pair they crossed paths with was muttering about Huntara’s new transportation service. The two froze the second they spotted Erif. Fortunately, they were smart enough to keep to themself, continuing their hushed conversation when Erif left their vicinity.
One last turn led them into an alleyway filled with orange sunlight. Erif let out a quiet sigh when the rays hit them. They loved how the heat settled on their fur. The fresh, earthy air filled their lungs. Red dirt crunched underfoot as they stepped out of the shade and into the open flatland.
They’d made it.
A slight gust of wind and sand blew against them now that they had gotten free from cover. Ahead, a collection of shoddy, rundown buildings spread out along the winding road. Given that this was the edge of the “city”—a.k.a. one of the more populated areas of the Crimson Waste—the architecture wasn’t much to look at. Most of the cracks and full blown holes in the walls and roofs had been left unpatched, leaving the interiors open to the harsh elements. While some stragglers usually populated the area, right now no one was within eyeshot.
Erif closed their eyes. They were safe.
With just a thought, their form began to change. Shifting shadows grew at their feet and slowly consumed them.
They pulled off their cloak with a smooth motion. The other hand yanked upward to slick back their hair as a cold, familiar sensation spread across their skin. It seeped into their flesh and enveloped them in a temporary darkness. Their senses dulled until only the shadows remained. Directionless matter, the pure substance that made up their body and allowed them to mold it to fit whatever purpose they needed.
Constant practice made the transition seamless. Years of uncovering and experimenting with all the mental switches and levers that affected every little aspect of their appearance. They didn’t have to focus on the details anymore. They just needed to picture the goal and their experience would do the rest. It was made even easier by the subconscious pull towards the body they always defaulted to.
A cold sensation flowed through their hair as fingers ran through the strands. Dark brown shifted to platinum blonde. Mass vanished from the same hand, fingers thinning, nails growing to a point, fur disappearing with a fizzle. The shadow passed through the rest of their body. Their skeletal structure, muscles, nerves, everything swirled around in a tuneless form until they all found their right place, fitted together like a puzzle within milliseconds.
The plain clothes that had been hidden underneath the cloak transformed with them, shifting and melding with the dark, massless blob without hesitation. And the special threads that made them up carried a distinct enough signature to keep them separate from the living matter. They stretched over the newly formed skin with the shape and texture of their iconic bodysuit.
Last but not least formed the tail. The black substance flicked off the end and disappeared with a spark of green light, leaving the real body behind.
The body of the mercenary known as Double Trouble.
A small breath left the shapeshifter’s lips, bringing the act to a close. It mingled with the dry, arid atmosphere of the desert they called their stage.
And… scene.
Double Trouble slumped and let out an exaggerated sigh.
That performance had been such a bore. They knew going with such a plain looking character to avoid detection was smart, but at some point they felt like the safety wasn’t worth the boredom. Next time, they’d liven up the character. Less “grr, don’t come near me” and more “I’d love to fight you, but I have better things to do”. The name seemed fine, though: Erif. Not the most fun name, but the average Crimson Waste inhabitant didn’t care about fun anyways. Which meant it was perfect.
They looked down at the cloak in their hand. Ripped, faded, and covered in dirt.
Double Trouble tossed it aside after removing their mini tracker pad from one of its pockets. The fabric bunched up underfoot. They stepped over it and away from the edge of the central district. After wiping some dust from the screen, they slipped the tracker pad back into one of the concealed pockets of their body suit.
Wind swept the land more furiously as the number of buildings diminished. The path DT followed softened up. Sand, broken down dwellings, more sand, a customer fruitlessly haggling over the price of some food—they were being much too aggressive—and an unbelievable amount of sand passed them by as they walked.
Sunlight bounced off their skin. As much as they wanted to find someplace to lie down and bask in the heat, they couldn’t afford to sit still. Not now. Not when their pursuers were closing in—metaphorically speaking.
Double Trouble kept the half-lidded expression on their face as they walked in the shadow of the few buildings lining the path, all while mentally scrutinizing every person who entered their cone of vision.
An opportunity needed to fall into their lap any second now. Something not too dull that they’d rather turn themself in than suffer through it, and not too exciting that it’d bring attention from unwanted parties.
Any second now…
If this was a play that had been blessed to have them as one of the starring roles, DT would berate the writer for not moving the plot forward already.
It was when they turned the corner on an abandoned inn that they heard it. Voices. One slightly panicked and in need of help, and the other an uninterested rumble. They recognized the second one. It was the voice of that scavenger who usually hung around these parts. DT could picture the slouched, crude figure already.
The other voice wormed its way on their brain. A… familiar one. Especially when it nervously cracked every now and then.
DT silently sauntered over to the other side of the building, ducking under the window as they did. They peeked their head out when they reached the other corner.
Right on the money. Standing a couple of blocks away in the shade of a tall rocky structure were two figures. The first being the scavenger, a rusted shovel poking out of the overbearing pack he carried. DT didn’t find him interesting enough to remember his name.
The other one, however…
“Are you sure that’s the right way?” the figure in the ridiculous crop top asked, his voice almost lost to the whistling breeze. Even at this distance, DT spotted his frown. He anxiously glanced between the scavenger and the tracker pad in his grip. “I know my map is outdated, but I was pretty sure Huntara’s base is supposed to be in this area.”
DT blinked. Either this was a very enthusiastic fan, or it was the famed Brightmoon archer himself. Here. In the Crimson Waste. His golden armor glinted in the sunlight, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
The scavenger furrowed his brow. His low voice made it hard for DT to make out his response. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound happy.
“No, I’m not trying to insult you. I just-” The archer’s voice cracked again. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, nevermind. I’m probably misremembering. Or maybe Huntara just… moved recently.”
DT covered their mouth before their laugh could escape. They knew strolling along the edge of the city would provide promising results. Here came an opportunity, and it had advertised itself to them with a little comedy routine to boot.
They snuck back against the wall while the two performers continued their awkward conversation. Possible plans already began to form in their head. A new arrival from Brightmoon needed help. And that person happened to be one of the Queen’s closest friends. From the polished look to his clothes and expensive armor, he must’ve arrived recently. He was alone, confused, and desperate for help. It was perfect.
In fact, it was almost too perfect.
DT poked their head out again. The scavenger had walked off at some point, leaving Bow alone to scratch his head while he looked off in the direction he’d been shown. A direction which definitely did not lead to Huntara’s territory.
The shapeshifter made up their mind. They weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, not only could this solve all their problems, but it seemed like it’d be a lot of fun.
They grinned and slipped out of the shadows.
“Don’t worry about it Glimmer, I’ll be fine,” Bow muttered to himself. “We’ve been to the Crimson Waste before. I can handle it on my own.”
He tapped his malfunctioning tracker pad. Half of it displayed static and the other half an outdated map. This thing was supposed to be working perfectly. Did its circuits get fried by the heat?
He groaned and kept tapping the screen. “And it’s totally fine if Adora’s too busy to help, too. I got this.”
And now he’d started talking to himself. Not a good sign. The heat wasn’t helping him think, either. Wait, he wasn’t getting dehydrated already, was he? Oh no, he couldn’t be losing it this early on in the mission. He’d only brought along two bottles of water because Huntara’s base was supposed to be right around this spot where Entrapta had dropped him off. The scientist was probably halfway back to Brightmoon by now too, so it wasn’t like he could call her to pick him up again.
Tension squirmed in his gut. He’d also promised his friends that he’d get this done by himself. Going back now would only make things worse.
Bow glanced in the direction that the helpful wanderer had pointed him in, where there was nothing to see but rising sand dunes and some… unique cacti. A lot more activity caught his eye in the opposite direction. A wide street, pressed down from decades of passing travellers, that zigged and zagged in unpredictable directions like the rivers in Brightmoon splitting off before reaching the sea.
It’d make more sense for Huntara to be that way, wouldn’t it? He should ask around for some more information. Not to insult the guy who’d just helped him, of course. This was just to make sure.
Bow took a deep breath. Right. He could do this.
He shook the sand off his shoes and strolled towards the stretch of buildings.
The first two people he tried getting the attention of didn’t give him the time of the day, aside from some strange glances at what he wore. But that was alright. He hit the jackpot when walking up to the third person, a hooded birdlike figure. They didn’t actually help him, but they did acknowledge him and tell him to buzz off. That was progress! If things kept going this way, then eventually one of the next friendly people he talked to had to help him out.
He tried not to think about how the last time he’d been here with the Best Friend Squad, the first person to offer them help had betrayed them, and then how the betrayer had also become a fellow betrayee less than a day later. As… disappointing as that had been, he had to hope that there was kindness to be found here.
The next “friendly” Crimson Waste inhabitant stood at the back of a repurposed Horde skiff, wearing a long black cloak over her gray magicat fur. She grunted and picked up one of the six wooden boxes stacked next to her before dropping it on the vehicle. The metal creaked under the weight. Bow tried stepping close to get her attention, but…
The magicat turned her head at the sound of footsteps. Her eyes narrowed into slits when she spotted him, and she let out a snarl.
“Sorry, sorry!” Bow backed up, holding the tracker pad up to his chest like a shield. He stammered, “I had a question but, um, you know what? It wasn’t important. I’ll leave you alone.”
The sun had sunk as low as his spirits by the time he made his way down the street, already having requested the help of anyone who would pay him any attention. So, four people in total.
Bow glanced up. Wait, scratch that. The sun still sat high in the sky. All the rejections had only made it feel like hours had passed. Great.
On the horizon ahead, past the web of buildings, lay a rolling flatland where the jagged mouth of a canyon stretched across. Columns of smoke rose from the makeshift structures bordering the cliff edge. That had to mean there were a lot more people there. Maybe he’d have a better shot at finding Huntara if he looked for help in a spot as populated as that.
Waves of heat beat down, and Bow wiped the sweat off his brow. The occasional gusts of desert air only brought small moments of reprieve. The weight of the satchel, armor, and quiver pressed down his shoulders.
His breathing was ragged. He needed to take a quick breather before going anywhere else.
Bow dragged himself towards the closest source of shade. A building that kinda resembled a theater, with the roof of the alcove elongated by a blue-green tarp held up by large columns of… bones? Yup, those were actual bones. Awesome! Bow held back a shudder and stepped under it.
He practically fell against the cold wall with a sigh of relief after taking off his quiver. The tarp above fluttered lightly while Bow took a moment to just… think of what to do next.
Another sigh escaped him, this time with some more regret put into it. Something told him he should’ve just waited until his friends were less busy. It was starting to look less and less likely that he’d be able to do this on his own. But… that’d mean he’d have to let his friends down. They’d been so stressed out with their own work that it had been a huge weight off their back when Bow had stepped up and accepted the mission for them. They were counting on him.
It wasn’t supposed to have been that difficult of a mission, either. Once he found Huntara, he just needed to reconfigure her communication tower that’d been damaged in Horde Prime’s attack. That way, live communication between her base and Brightmoon would be back up again. She couldn’t afford to search the Waste for another functioning tower since her enemies would just “take advantage of that weakness”, as she put it. Fixing the tower was assumed to have been the hard part of his mission. But instead he was having trouble just finding the thing.
Bow scowled and scratched his head. His legs shook under his weight, so he slowly sank onto the cool sand-
“Well, what do we have here?”
Bow blinked open his eyes with a start. He jumped up and grabbed his quiver before turning to the voice. It belonged to someone standing just five feet away on the opposite side of the alcove, hip cocked and arm crossed with a hand raised to their cheek. They looked like they were the same species as one of Huntara’s old sidekicks who had attacked him and the Best Friend Squad a while back, but shorter and with gray fur. They gazed at him with a curious look.
“Um, hi,” Bow replied after shaking himself out of his stupor. “Are you talking to me?”
The mysterious newcomer smirked. “No, I’m talking to the poster next to you.” Their raspy voice continued with less sarcasm, “Yes, I’m talking to you.”
Bow frowned, but he shook his head. This was good! Someone was actually talking to him, and without any hostility too!
“Oh, well, hi! Again!” He waved a hand. “I’m new to this place and I’m kind of lost. I was hoping someone here could point me in the right direction.”
The potential friend swiftly stepped closer, eyeing his gear. “New to this place, huh? You definitely look like it. You’re that-” They rubbed their chin. “Hey! You’re that guy! The guy who was on the screen- that big projection in the sky when that green space alien was attacking us. You gave a whole speech and everything.”
Bow blushed. Did people still remember that? ”Yeah, that was me. It’s nice to meet you! The name’s Bow.”
“Wow. I didn’t think I’d meet a celebrity today.” That almost sounded like more of their sarcasm. “What’s someone important like you doing in a place like this?”
“I’m on a mission from Brightmoon. You’ve, um, heard of Huntara, right? Right, of course you have. Well, she needs some help with something, so here I am.” He smiled. “If you could point me where to go, that’d be great. Someone gave me directions earlier, but…” He rubbed his neck. “I just want to be accurate.”
“Huntara, huh?” They rubbed their chin. “That’s a big name. You really must be someone special if you’re meeting up with her.”
“Oh no,” Bow looked embarrassed. “I’m just here to fix something. That’s all.”
“I could tell you where to go, but how are you gonna get there? You’re coming all the way from Brightmoon, so I’m guessing you got some kind of vehicle parked nearby.”
Bow pursed his lips. “Not… exactly. I got dropped off here on a ship because I thought this was where I was supposed to be. And I can’t call her back because-” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I figured I could get there on foot if it’s nearby.”
They blinked. “I wouldn’t recommend that, even if it was close. It’s dangerous for someone to be on their own for too long, especially an outsider.” They leaned in and quizzically asked. “You are on your own, right?”
“...I am,” Bow hesitantly replied.
“Like I said, not a smart move if you want to survive here.” They gestured at their surroundings. “Out here, one misstep and you’re done.” Bow gulped. “I’m surprised you even lasted this long.”
“I-It can’t be that bad. I’ve been here before and-”
“Look over there,” they gestured down the street with a subtle tilt of their head. “You see that?”
Bow had to turn around. He squinted, trying to pick up on whatever the newcomer was trying to point out.
“I don’t know what you’re…”
Oh. The repurposed Horde skiff that he’d passed by a while ago. It stood out in the hazy street. The only reason it caught his eye was because… it was missing all of the boxes that the magicat had stacked on top of it.
Bow’s eyebrows shot up. Dust floated up in the air down the street away from the skiff, following the tracks of blurry figures who fled the scene while carrying that same luggage that the skiff had held. The magicat in question rushed out of the building next to her vehicle. She waved her fist and shouted obscenities at the group as she ran after them.
“That poor lady…” Bow muttered with a frown.
“That,” The newcomer continued from behind Bow. He turned to face them again. “Happened in the past two minutes while we were talking. Meanwhile, you’re walking around wearing shiny armor and holding up some expensive tech.”
Bow sheepishly looked down at the tracker pad peeking out of his pack stachel. He cleared his throat. “Okay, you’ve proved your point. It’s really dangerous out here.” He tilted his head. “If everyone here is so ruthless, why are you helping me by telling me all this?” He blinked and quickly added. “Um, no offense.”
“Because I know a good opportunity when I see one.” Their eyes shone as they smiled. “Not only are you important, but now I know that you’re also on your way to meet one of the most powerful leaders here.” They clasped their hands behind their back and took a step forward. The look on their face seemed familiar, for some reason. “I want to help you. I’ll personally guide you through the safest parts of this place and get you to Huntara’s in one piece. And in return, I want you to do something for me. How does that sound?”
Bow’s hopes sank. Okay, so they weren’t helping him simply out of the goodness of their heart.
He quickly pushed that thought away. In all fairness, this was the nicest thing anyone had done for him ever since he’d stepped foot in the Crimson Waste. And they were offering to guide him themself of all things! He shouldn’t judge them too harshly.
“What exactly do you need from me?”
“Just a small payment from Huntara for my services. Or from you. I don’t care who foots the bill.” They stepped closer, so that they were only a couple of feet away.
Bow blinked. This person’s smile looked really familiar now.
They held their hand out. “We can discuss the exact details of the payment later. So, how about it? Do we have a deal?”
Bow eyed them again. This was the best opportunity he’d come across, so… why not. He smiled back and shook their hand. “Deal. And thank you. I’ll make sure you get paid for helping me.”
The other person’s palm was surprisingly cool against his. Their grin grew when the deal was struck, and they stepped back.
“What’s your name, by the way?” Bow asked.
They laughed. “Oh, of course. Introductions are in order.” Their teeth flashed, and when they blinked, their eyes shifted to a bright green color. “Though I’m sure you already know my name.”
Bow stepped back in surprise.
Before he could react further, a shadow passed over the figure. No, not a shadow. A shimmering, liquid void that absorbed the form before him from head to toe. The figure inside the substance shifted, so smoothly that Bow couldn’t keep track of what was happening. He was sure of one thing, though.
He’d seen this before.
Bow rubbed his eyes. When he blinked them open again, a completely different person stood in front of him.
The figure flicked a strand of hair, now blonde, out of their face. Their newly formed tail swayed behind them. Soft, furry ears had been exchanged for sharp, green ones. Golden eyes for brighter irises that housed slitted pupils. And a dark, mesh bodysuit that was all too familiar. He knew it. He had seen them before.
“Y-” Bow finally found his voice. He took a step back and pointed accusatively. “You!”
Double Trouble bowed low. When they stood up, they replied, “Me.”
“You’re that shapeshifter!”
That wiped the smile from their face. “That ‘shapeshifter’? Really?” They put their hands on their hips. “First of all, I haven’t gone by that title in years. Second of all, you know my name. I’m the gorgeous, talented spy who nearly spelled ruin for you and your rebellion.”
Bow winced. “Well, it’s been a long time, so-” He shook his head. “T-that doesn’t matter! Why were you pretending to be-” Bow’s brain was a jumble. He tried again, “What was-” He waved his arms at them. “-all that? Why were you pretending to be someone offering to help me?”
“I wasn’t pretending.” The shapeshifter rolled their eyes. Bow was sure their name had two words in it. Was it… Triple Threat? No, that didn’t sound right. “I was acting. And it wasn’t a farce. I did mean everything I said.” They cocked their head. “Most of it. I want to help you.”
“While disguised as someone else?” Bow narrowed his eyes at… their name started with a ‘D’, didn’t it?
“Don’t take it personally, sweetheart.” They walked along the edge of the shade as they talked, movements slow but graceful. “I just wasn’t sure where the two of us stood, especially after all the fun I had as Flutterina.” They clapped their hands. “But that doesn’t matter now. It’s obvious you’re desperate for help, so here I am. As per our deal, I’ll lead you to Huntara… in return for a hefty reward.”
“Hold on.” Bow rubbed the sides of his head. “I didn’t make the deal with you,” Bow asserted. “I made it with…”
They tapped their chest. “Me. I may have been unrecognizable, but that was still me. And I didn’t lie about anything I said during that entire performance.”
Bow held his breath as they talked, hoping they’d just say their own name. “How can I trust you?” He countered when he didn’t get it. “I know you helped us fight Prime and all, but I didn’t forget what you did before that.”
“What did I do before that?” They sarcastically put a finger on their chin. “From what I remember, I helped your rebellion trick Catra into sending her troops into a trap.”
Bow shook his head. “I’m talking earlier than that. You betrayed us after pretending to be our friend. You tried to pit Glimmer and Adora against each other.”
“‘Tried’?” came their mutter, just barely audible. They cleared their throat. “Those two were already having problems before I came along. I simply poked at them a little.” They continued before Bow could respond. “But I see your point.”
“Then-”
“However,” they added. “That was just business, sweetheart. And when there’s a war going on, you need to take on whatever opportunities come your way in order to survive.” Their ears drooped slightly. “Surely you can empathize?”
They sounded so genuine all of a sudden. Bow frowned. “I-I can, but…”
What was happening? This was the same person who’d almost torn his friends apart with all of their discord. And now they were pushing him to accept their help as if none of that had happened. Gah, it was even harder to wrap his head around this when he couldn’t even remember this person’s name!
“I still don’t know if I can trust you,” he admitted.
The mercenary smiled. “Of course you can. Because out of everyone here, you know me the best.”
They had walked along the edge of the shade for long enough that Bow had turned to follow them. They stopped and gestured at the robbed skiff, now devoid of any of its luggage.
“You saw what happened over there. Things like that are more common than you could wrap your pretty little head around. You can try asking someone else for help, but you’ll have no idea what kind of person they are. You won’t know what drives their character. They might just steal whatever you own instead of going to the trouble of helping you out.” Their hand moved back to themself, directing Bow’s attention with a smooth motion. “But it’s different in my case. You’ve seen me in action. You know what kind of business I get into. All I want is payment for a job well done.”
“I’m sure that’s what you told Catra, too,” Bow countered. “I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, but I do know that you turned on her pretty quickly for someone who was by her side for that long.”
They sighed. “In my defense, I didn’t reveal anything about Catra’s plans until your queen used her ‘truth magic’ thing on me-”
Bow winced. The moral implications of that were still… eugh.
“-and I only switched sides because she said she had a planet-sized weapon that she was about to use on the Horde.” They paused. “Did I mention that it was as big as the planet?”
Bow pursed his lips. They had a point. A lot of points, actually. And he knew that going with them was better than any other plan he could come up with at the moment, but…
The currently-unemployed spy eyed Bow’s expression. “Alright, look at it this way. I could’ve stayed undercover for as long as I wanted. And yet, here I am, in my true form. I’m trusting you with my identity. Not a common thing people do in the Waste, you should know.”
…Another good point.
Alright. No matter what they’d done in the past, Bow needed to at least give them a chance. There was good in everyone. Who knew, maybe this was them showing the good-ish side of themself?
“I don’t really have any other option, do I?” Bow muttered to himself. Placing the quiver on his back, he stood straight. The two of them were at about eye level. “Alright. I’ll trust you.”
“Fantastic!” The mercenary clapped their hands. “You won’t regret it, sweetheart. I’ll get you to Huntara before you know it. With my skill set, it’s practically guaranteed that I’ll keep you out of trouble, despite what my name says. I can even be your muscle if you need me to carry anything.” They looked him up and down. “Not that you need it.”
“Um, thanks?”
They walked back along the edge of the shadow, their back turned to Bow. He moved to follow-
Wait.
Trouble…
Oh!
“Double Trouble!” Bow blurted out.
He winced at his outburst as Double Trouble stopped in their tracks. They turned around and looked at him with confusion. “...Yes? You don’t need to shout.”
Bow stammered, “O-oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just…”
It wasn’t the heat that made him sweat this time as Double Trouble held him under their gaze. They took a step towards him. Bow tried to keep his expression still. DT eyed him for a few more seconds…
And then they gasped. “No. You didn’t. Don’t tell me you forgot my name!”
Bow awkwardly played with his hands. “Well…”
“After everything we’ve been through-” DT froze. Their gaze flickered, just for a second, past Bow’s shoulder.
Before he could look back, they hastily said, “You know what, we can talk about this heinous crime later.” They turned back around and-
Bow almost yelped when their tail curled around his wrist and yanked him along. He reluctantly followed, but asked, “Wait, where are we going? You haven’t told me what the plan is!”
The currently-employed spy pulled him along the side of the street. The warmth of the dirt and sand under Bow’s boots seeped through again once they emerged from the shade of the alcove. The sun glared down on both of them.
DT pushed a strand of hair behind their ear and replied in a calm voice, “We can walk and talk, darling.”
Bow glanced behind him. He squinted. A small group of people had entered the street about a dozen buildings away. They wore matching accessories, like a band. One tall member had on a black shirt with… a golden circle on the back.
He started, “Who-”
“Another problem, that’s who.” DT sighed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but some people have been keeping a close eye on you ever since you got here. You stand out too much. And that specific group right behind us is known for making trouble for outsiders. Not the fun kind. We need to move before they find out about you.”
Bow eventually caught up to DT and matched their pace. They let go of his wrist and directed him down another alleyway covered in colorful tarps, safe from the sun. He didn’t need to be told twice.
He let out a soft breath when the cool shade cloaked him again. DT kept walking, so he matched their steps and asked, “Look, I don’t wanna rush you. You’re the Crimson Waste expert here. But can you at least tell me where we’re going?”
The ground sloped gently downward as they walked. The spaces between the buildings became less sparse further along the horizon. It looked like they were taking him towards that huge canyon he’d spotted earlier.
DT slowed down their pace. They glanced over him again before stating, “Like I said, you stand out too much. Before we do anything else, you’re going to need a disguise of your own.”
Bow scrunched his eyebrows together. “And that means…?”
Double Trouble grinned. There was no malice in their expression. Just genuine excitement, as if they hadn’t just been running for their safety.
“We’re going shopping.”