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- I parked my clockwork dragon one block from the gallery, chained to a bike rack that was just big enough to hold him. I took out the wind-up key, stuck it in my pocket, and then took out a little piece of red chalk. A stroke here, another here, three striking lines there, and then it was done. Any potential thieves would be met with a nasty surprise. I of course also had to make sure people knew it was protected — while I got a sense of satisfaction picturing an armless crook fleeing the scene, I would rather avoid any interaction with the law if at all possible. It sounded like a lot of procedure.
- So I put a flag into a little notch on the dragon's head, and in the wind it flailed:
- Rune Protected!!! Touch @ own risk
- ***
- I mounted my dragon-bike, and pulled out the wind-up key. I rested my left hand on one of its handles, inserted the key, and twisted.
- A loud whistling sound caught me completely off-guard. Before I knew what was happening, a power shot through my left arm, like a cannonball had used the space between my ulna and radius as its chamber. Suddenly, my whole body was thrown backwards off of my own vehicle, and my left forearm flew threw the air, spiraling like a shot duck.
- Just before the pain caught up with me, I watched the runes on my ride flair, and my arm's stump fountained blood. A scream-yell hybrid pushed its way out of my lungs and called attention from any nearby passerbys who weren't already in shock.
- ***
- Dire Wolf
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