Most delivery jobs were pretty straightforward: take box, bag, letter, or item from point A to point B and put it in the hands of its intended recipient. Sometimes the specifics got a little weird (catching and delivering a living tree flit to Flora had been an adventure), but Tal did his best to follow the customer's directions.
Or to refuse to take the commission upfront if he knew he couldn't complete it for one reason or another.
This was the first time he'd been asked to deliver something to dead person, however, complicated by the fact that he hadn't known the recipient was dead at the time he accepted the commission. The customer had conveniently left that little bit of information off when they'd asked him to deliver a rose bush "for their grandmother in Mourn, just look for the little bronze statue of the rearing unicorn."
Tal had foolishly assumed the statue was outside their grandmother's house.
Well, it was his first time in Mourn, so how could he have known? And what with the world going ass over teakettle again it wasn't like he'd had a lot of free time to do much research! Which was a lot of words to say that here he was today, under the bright Longheat sun, with a live rose bush in a bucket beside him while he grumbled and used a too-small shovel from his Bag to try and dig a hole to drop the root ball into so some old bag in Mort's Halls could occasionally peek into the mortal realm and admire her new flowers.
Boreal - a pale dragon built like a mastiff - who was usually far too eager to dig, had promptly decided it was too hot for her fragile constitution and had wedged herself under a nearby bench to doze in the shade while her human played in the dirt.
"Sure, an' where was this stayin' out o' th'mud when we were in th'Feverlands?" Tal grumbled fondly at his companion as he tossed another clod of dirt over his shoulder.
~Open!~
Or to refuse to take the commission upfront if he knew he couldn't complete it for one reason or another.
This was the first time he'd been asked to deliver something to dead person, however, complicated by the fact that he hadn't known the recipient was dead at the time he accepted the commission. The customer had conveniently left that little bit of information off when they'd asked him to deliver a rose bush "for their grandmother in Mourn, just look for the little bronze statue of the rearing unicorn."
Tal had foolishly assumed the statue was outside their grandmother's house.
Well, it was his first time in Mourn, so how could he have known? And what with the world going ass over teakettle again it wasn't like he'd had a lot of free time to do much research! Which was a lot of words to say that here he was today, under the bright Longheat sun, with a live rose bush in a bucket beside him while he grumbled and used a too-small shovel from his Bag to try and dig a hole to drop the root ball into so some old bag in Mort's Halls could occasionally peek into the mortal realm and admire her new flowers.
Boreal - a pale dragon built like a mastiff - who was usually far too eager to dig, had promptly decided it was too hot for her fragile constitution and had wedged herself under a nearby bench to doze in the shade while her human played in the dirt.
"Sure, an' where was this stayin' out o' th'mud when we were in th'Feverlands?" Tal grumbled fondly at his companion as he tossed another clod of dirt over his shoulder.
~Open!~
