"Why
don't you take the first hit instead?" the warrior
challenged.
"Okay,"
Iona agreed. She reached out with a paw and poked the power armor on
the right arm. She appeared to be unconcerned that she was well
within the reach of both chainsaws.
The
warrior groaned. "Is that the best you can do?"
"Oh?"
Iona stepped closer and gave a little slap at the elbow of the same
arm. "How's this?"
The
warrior groaned again. "Aw, come on, this is pointless. You
should just"-
Iona
suddenly leaped up. Claws sprang from her paws, which she used to dig
deep into the weak armor at her opponent's right armpit. The power
armor's right arm jerked, and then fell limp. The girl pulled her arm
back and ducked under the left chainsaw that her opponent
instinctively swung at her.
The
warrior took a step back, finally realizing the threat his opponent
posed. With a growl, he swung his remaining weapon at Iona.
The girl
jumped back out of reach. She landed upside down on a hand and used
her other paw to wave. "You ca~n't hit me~," she jeered in
a childish tune and added a laugh.
The
black power armor cautiously moved towards Iona, swinging its
chainsaw. The time for trash-talk was over. For him, at least. Iona
kept up with the insults as she easily danced in and out of her
opponent's reach.
As
George was watching the fight, Tricia carefully picked him up by the
waist. She carried him under an arm behind Mabel as they sneaked
around the room, around the opposite side where Iona, and the
warrior's attention were.
Craning
his head up was painful for his neck so George stared at the ground
instead. There certainly was a lot of sand on the floor, with marks
where people had stepped. Unsurprising, since they were in the
wasteland after all. One thing he had seen plenty of, all over the
terrain outside, was sand.
The
three made it safely to the exit staircase while Iona was still
playing with the oversized power armor. They climbed the stairs,
which went up through a space barely large enough for Tricia's bulk.
George noted that one of the steps ahead had little sand or
footprints on it.
"Mabel,"
he whispered. He pointed towards the step just in front of the Vixen.
"Trap?"
Mabel
looked at the step. Then she gave the thumb up to George. She
carefully avoided the step and onwards to the next level.
Once
they were on the next floor, Tricia put George down on the ground,
next to the sign that read, "Trial of Caution."
"Any
idea what this is about?" Tricia asked as she rapped the sign
with the back of a clawed hand.
"What
a stupid name for a trial," Mabel judged, "We should wait
for Io first."
There
was giddy laughter coming from below.
Then
there was an angry shout, "Hey, come back here!"
Iona
bolted up the staircase, which was too small for the black power
armor. She paused long enough to turn and stick her tongue back in
the direction she came.
"Wait,
Io"- Mabel tried to warn the cloaked Vixen, just before smaller
girl backed into the step that George had pointed out earlier.
A
section of the ceiling above opened and a large blocky ceramic object
fell, crushing Iona into the stairs. The object looked like a large
sink or tub - it even had an attached faucet.
Iona
stretched a paw from beneath the sink. "Ow..." she groaned.
Mabel
suppressed a snort.
Tricia
effortlessly tossed the sink aside and pulled Iona onto her feet. The
smaller Vixen dusted her cloak.
"Are
you okay?" George asked.
"Yeah,
I'm okay," Iona said. She stretched her back and each limb one
by one. "I've been hit worse before." Then she looked about
the level. "So... what have we got here?"
Other
than the sign, the level was empty. Except for the space at the top
of the staircase they arrived from, the floor of the level was
checkered with large square tiles that alternated between black and
white. Each tile was the width of two of George's footsteps.
Also of
note was that the walls and ceiling were irregularly shaped, with
blocks jutting out and depressions. The exit stairs were on the other
side of the tiled floor.
Iona
skipped towards the stairs on the opposite of the level. As soon as
she stepped on a black tile, there was a distant tiny ping and a dart
poked into her arm.
The
Vixen plucked the dart from her arm and tasted the point. "Poisoned,"
she announced. Unconcerned, she stepped on the next tile, a white
one.
The tile
erupted in a pillar of flame.
Iona
jumped back with a mew of surprise. She hopped back towards the
entrance where she rolled on the floor to put out the flames on her.
"Hot! Hot!"
"Squirt,
your coat!" Mabel ordered.
"What?"
George asked, confused.
"Beat
out the fire with your coat!"
George
finally understood. He dropped his toolbag and hurriedly pulled off
his coat. He beat the flames on Iona with his coat until the fire was
gone.
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