#in that slightly condescending but nevertheless intrigued and clear-minded way

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

developing the biggest soft spot for wkx from the novel as i slowly unravel his show equivalent

[thegarbagechute]

The Twi'lek tried to carefully put all the pieces of fruit he had just bartered off a merchant in his old, raggedy bag that turned out to be too small this time around for his purchases. The fabric stretched but not by enough to keep some of the holes in it from opening up even further.

He gave up on his attempt to put the last piece in his bag and took it in hand instead while he continued wandering down the dwindling road. On either side of it, merchants and brokers of all kind were starting to take down their stands and remove their wares from the public's eye as the day and the market drew to a close.

A couple of Jawas and their translation droid seemed to be in a heated argument with a Duros fellow who had something clenched tight in his fist and was shaking it furiously at the Jawas, no doubt expressing his opinion on his recent purchase. Even though they were a long ways away from Tatooine, there was no shortage of brokering Jawas on this backwater desert planet either and here too, not all of their goods were worth something despite them claiming otherwise.

Azil'mort paid it no further mind and let his eyes lazily roll to the other side of the road as he walked on, his hands fiddling a little bit with the piece of fruit which closely resembled a dragonfruit.

His eyes fell on a large cage and two gentlemen nearby of unidentifiable species as they had their back turned towards him, grunting and wiping sweat off their brows while they loaded one of the cargo speeders they had with them with smaller cages; some empty and some containing various critters they undoubtedly had intended to sell as pets to the public.

The large cage, too, was still occupied. However, Azil'mort assumed for a brief moment that the beast locked in it was no longer alive as it did not move at all when he walked past until he heard a soft chirp.

He slowed in his step and the creature stirred, weakly lifting up its head. It turned to face him and it edged a little closer to the bars that kept it imprisoned. Intrigued, Azil stopped and observed the creature from where he stood, a mere four steps away from it.

The creature seemed so pale and sickly, that he never would have guessed it to be a Varactyl had it not moved its head between the bars and out of the shadows, its beak and feathery mane now visible, though the latter was lacking all the vibrant colours that was so distinctive of the species and not as voluminous. Azil instantly attributed its condition to its captors, who had taken up arguing over how the platform should be loaded.

He was about to turn away and walk on, but, as if it had sensed it, the Varactyl chirped louder this time to draw his attention and it succeeded. Azil raised a brow and watched it jerk its head towards him, its mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Only when he noticed the creature's nostrils flare, did Azil'mort remember the fruit in his hands.

"Right, of course," he murmured under his breath. He cast a quick look at the salesmen nearby, who had yet to notice his presence, before he stepped towards the cage.

The Varactyl perked up a bit, as though it was surprised that his attention-luring tactics had worked. It eagerly shifted forwards when Azil knelt down. He tore the fruit in two and offered the first half his right hand. The Varactyl was hesitant to take it at first, but when Azil moved his hand just a tiny bit closer, the creature seemed assured it was okay to take it without getting beat. Carefully, it took the first chunk of fruit out of his hands with its beak, but then wasted no further time and gobbled it right down. Expecting as such, Azil already had the other portion of it ready when he heard a loud, unhealthy cough.

"What do you think you're doing?" a condescending voice called to him from just a few steps away. Azil did not bother looking up at all and merely kept his eyes trained on the Varactyl while it also ate the second piece.

"A dead cargo is a worthless cargo, wouldn't you agree?" the Twi'lek answered.

At the lack of any further response to that, Azil did look up and saw that he was dealing with two Nikto gentlemen. They looked scruff but were by no means as intimidating as they clearly made themselves out to be, no matter how fiercely they crossed their arms over their chest. Eventually one of them thought of a comeback.

"You think we're not taking care of our goods?" the one on the left asked, trying hard to sound like he had taken offence to that.

"Judging by the condition of this one here-" Azil nodded at the Varactyl in front of him that was now curiously sniffing at Azil'mort, "I would say that you are not. The pale skin and missing feather ridges on its back and head as well indicates lack of vitamins and minerals--"

"She came to us like that," the Nikto on the right said, clearly getting impatient with the Twi'lek already, who had started to gently stroke the Varactyl's beak with one hand.

"Oh, of course she has," Azil nodded understandingly, "as did they, I assume?" He pointed at the smaller cages stacked by the road. He could make out lumps and little legs and fur, but whatever was inside them, Azil could not recall having seen it move even slightly just once.

Only one of the Niktos could be bothered to actually turn and look at what he was pointing at, while the clearly more dominant and impatient one on the left had run out of patience.

"Look, are you going to buy her off of us or not? Otherwise just beat it, old man."

Azil rolled his eyes at that cheap insult and turned his head to the Varactyl in front of him, who was eyeing him intently. Whether she was trying her hardest to get him to give more fruit or not, he could not help but feel sorry for her and a small bond between them... even though he knew jack about creatures, unless parts of them contributed to medical breakthroughs and the Varactyl was not one of those.

"Well, it is certainly going to take a lot of time to nurse her back to her former self... Probably a lot of training to get her strength back before she can be ridden again by anyone... So I am thinking you might as well give her to me, because honestly, in this state she's not worth much."

The Niktos looked at each other in disbelief. Having gotten confirmation from one another that what they heard was exactly what the Twi'lek had said, they started laughing.

"We ain't just gonna give away our most valuable piece, are we now, old man?" the impatient one asked, probably rhetorically, but it was tough to say.

"That insult is wearing out, so you might want to consider adjusting your tone before I stuff you in one of your cages," Azil'mort calmly replied.

Whether it was getting told by a beggarly Twi'lek that they needed to adjust their tone or the threat that they would be shoved into a cage that did the trick, the Niktos adjusted their stance nevertheless and the one on the right slowly reached for his blaster at his hip.

Azil'mort laughed and shook his head.

"You know what, I don't have time for this. I need to get going if I want to be back home by nightfall, really," he chuckled. He stood up and the Varactyl chirped softly in response. The Niktos seemed to relax when he took a step back from the cage and eagerly waited for him to turn around and scram. However, Azil brought his hands up to his chest and in a swift move pulled them apart. The metal bars of the cage screeched under unseen force as they bent and snapped violently, leaving a large hole.

The Niktos jumped back and stared wide-eyed at the Twi'lek as he coaxed the Varactyl out of the remnants of its enclosure.

"I'm sorry I scared you, darling, but there was no reasoning with these people. Here, have another piece of fruit."

She carefully wormed her way through the makeshift door in her cage, keeping her head low after she had stepped out and circled the Twi'lek, taking the fruit from his hand. He patted her on the back with a smile before turning his attention back to the Nikto duo who had yet to recover from the unexpected turn of events and merely gawked at him from several feet away.

"You can sell that to the Jawas as scrap metal," he jerked his head towards the cage, "which, I reckon, will get you half of what any person would have paid for her, so you gentlemen enjoy that and... see you next week?"

One of them regained his posture fast enough to clear his throat and nod weakly. "Yeah, sure, why... why not... Yeah..."

Azil grinned.

"Good! Let's go, darling, I've had enough of this place for now."

He turned on his heel and set off, his new companion sticking by his side as he continued following the road out of town and into the desert.