“Yeah, I kinda don’t wanna throw it actually,” Tora whispered back harshly. “This thing almost killed me playin’ fetch. Also that’s a damn fancy sword. I’m good.”
The golem made a sad beep noise.
“You’re not thinking of keeping the sword are you?” A gasp. “Miss Bandi!” “Maybe?! I dunno!”
“Your greed almost killed you!”
“Uh no?! The dog almost killed me!”
“Well if you must insist on thievery, are we taking her with us then?”
Tora growled under his breath. His mind’s eye played back a series of other
accidents this thing could cause if it came with them. “Can we just punt it over the edge?”
“Miss Bandi!” FPS gasped, snatching the golem off the ground and holding it in a tight protective embrace. “You dishonour your profession as a dog walker!”
“I’m not—I just don’t want this thing tailin’ us.” “So then we’re playing fetch?”
“No!”
“Keeping her then?”
“I can keep the weird dog but not the sword?!”
“I think it’s more you keep both or neither. An all or nothing situation.”
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