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Mythar shook his head again his large horns speared at the sky. The minotaur
turned to continue down the dusty trail. His hand never strayed far from the
double bladeded axe he kept strapped to his back. The blades were nicked and
the wooden handle seemed worn as if it had seen much use. But it looked as
though it would see some more by night's end.
The pair entered a sleepy town they had seen some ways off. The people
gawked at him for minotaurs were thought to be only legends like dragons,
unicorns, faries, honest politicians...
The mustached man walked in front of Mythar defensively, "Nothing to see
here just me and," he gestured to Mythar, "Mancow. Go on now you've all seen
Mancow now I'm sure now move along.."
The minotaur glowered and did his best to ignore the man and made a beeline
for the tavern.
The pair walked into the tavern and chose two of the nearest stools to rest
their bone weary feet. Mythar ordered a large bowl of beef stew and some
ale. His companion ordered a cup of coffee. Once they were served their food
the lithe young man looked around the bar top and shook his head
disgustedly.
"No cream!"
He looked over at Mythar with a grin. "Hey can I get some milk?"
The minotaur lunged at the man and in a blink tore off the man's mustach.
"Ow! That hurt!"
He grabbed at his pink upper lip his eyes tearing up.
"You deserve that Desmond. I told you to leave me alone!"
Desmond scrunched up his nose. "That's Mr. Goldstone to you sir. Look at
what you did to my disguise! How am I to be incogneto now?"
Mythar polished his stew off in a matter of seconds and waited while Desmond
sipped at his coffee.
He finished after a considerable amount of time claiming that drinking it
too fast would burn his tongue.
Mythar shook his head and held a hand up to the side of his face.
He was going to have one massive migraine by the time this was all through.
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