Voo-doo, yeah right!

He had a lot of tickets…but what did he spend them on? As he browsed the different shops and stands, one stood out to him. A creepy little lean-to, skulls dangled from vines along with feathers and…..well he didn’t really know what all was there. It was interesting though. A foul smell came from the wolf that sat all hunched over, but he approached her anyway, it seemed that he was not the only one interested in her talents…whatever they were… and that made him all the more curious. Patiently Sandor waited his turn, when finally the lines faded he approached the hunched over voo-doo lady. “Wh-what do you sell?” He asked…curious. A cackling laugh was his answer along with a vial shoved forth towards him with a dirty paw. Sandor glanced at it, then back to the wolf, ears folding back uncertainly. “What does it do?” Already his fur stood on end…not that you could really tell with his still growing fur. ’Different things for different wolves. 55 tickets and you can see.’ His jaw fell open at that price, 55 tickets and he didn’t even know what it did?!

“I don-“ ’Don’t waste my time pup, 55 tickets or scram.’ the voodoo wolf would snap, the insult did not fall on deaf ears, causing a low (well low for him) growl to rumble in his chest as ears tightened to his skull. After a moment he dug into his bag and pulled out the tickets. “Here. What does it do.” Not a question, a demand. He was done being nice. ’ Drink.’ Equally demanding as he. Huffing he took the vial in his mouth and drank the slimy liquid that ran down his throat. Coughing and trying not to gag, he listened as she explained whatever it was that was going to happen would be complete by the middle of winter. He just stared at her, disgusted. “What was that?!” ’Begone, pup.’ Grumbling he would turn and stomp away. That was some nasty crap, who sold stuff like that? Sandor was frustrated, he couldn’t believe he had been conned out of 55 tickets! What a waste.

Shaking his head, he turned to another shop, this one seemed much more promising. Twenty tickets later and he was helping himself into some new armor. Proudly he puffed out his chest, head held high. Looking around, he wondered if he could find someone he had met to tell him if he looked good…or if he looked like an idiot in red armor.