[Moosh da Outlaw]

-The Next Day-

"I'm ruined!" The wolvark sobbed, slamming his head against the bar's table. The barkeeper replaced the beer bottle held loosely in the wolvark's hand with a full one, which the wolvark drank greedily. The barkeeper was used to people like him; they stumbled into his bar, sobbing like maniacs, and drank so much that they forgot what they were upset about to begin with. He didn't mind, though. Most people paid their tabs, drunk or not.
"What's wrong?" The barkeeper dared to ask, cleaning a glass with a dirty cloth. The wolvark sat up suddently, shivering despite the warm air.
"It... was... horrible!" He screamed, grabbing the barkeeper by the collar of his shirt. He continued to clean his glass as though nothing had happened.
"Go on," said the barkeeper.
The wolvark sniffled loudly. "Get this; we heard of this steef, right? Damn monster, it was! We caught it too, we were gonna sell it, we would've made a fortune, but..." he collapsed suddently, soaking the table with unsupressed tears. The barkeeper patted him on the back.
"It got away?" He asked gently.
"Worse! Someone s-stole it! And it was still alive! I didn't even get ta skin it!" he howled, his voice muffled by the table. His hand closed tightly around his glass until it threataned to break. The bartender looked perplexed.
"Someone stole it? Before you killed it?" He asked. The wolvark nodded.
"Two furry freaks an' a grubb. An odd-damn grubb! How the hell did I let myself get beat by them?"
"Tell me," somebody sitting in the corner of the bar said, "what did these 'furry freaks' look like?"
The wolvark sneezed loudly, his cheeks and nose turning red. The effects of the alchohol were beginning to show.
"Well, uh... I don't know." He muttered. "One was a tall fella with a cowboy hat and a bag full of live animals, the other was... a woman, I think, grey all over with a painted rifle..."
"Hmm." The man muttered, draining his beer in one gulp. The wolvark was startled to see that the man was smoking four cigars at once, held together by a rubber band. "I think I can help you."
"Yeah?" The wolvark asked dully, slouching drunkedly against the table. "How's that?"
"I think I know who you're looking for." The man said.
The wolvark sat up, his eyes wide. "Ya do?" He asked wearily. The man nodded.
"Oh yeah, sure do." He said. "I just need to know where they last were."
"Well, I was in Buzzarton... no, wait... New Yolk, yeah, that was it." The wolvark muttered. The man shook his hand, but he hardly noticed.
"What's yer name?" He asked. The wolvark scratched his head, thinking hard.
"Bo Bedagger. Yours?" He finally said. The man nodded and twirled his cigars, smiling evily.
"Willie Royalle," he said, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the bar.

---

"Are we there yet?" Mola groaned, kicking a rock as he walked along. It skidded down the rocky path, scaring off a group of birds.
"Does it look like we're there?" Stranger asked, crossing his arms. Mola blinked furiously.
"No." He said.
"So do you think we're there?" Stranger growled. Mola shook his head.
"Uh, no."
Stranger didn't answer. Mola looked confused, but didn't dwell on his question.
"Why were you wandering around the Mongo Wilds?" Charlotte asked as they continued down the winding canyon. Cyren snorted.
"S'not important." He muttered. Charlotte sighed loudly.
"It is important," She insisted. "We have a townful of headhunters after us. It would help if we had some information-"
"Its not important!" Cyren snarled. His sudden outburst made Charlotte jump.
"Okay!" She hissed. "Odd, you don't have to be such a jerk about it."
Charlotte suddently restented saying that. Cyren's nostrils flared and he lowered his head, as if preparing to charge.
"Whoa!" Charlotte yelped. "Uh, don't freak out or anything, okay?"
Cyren slowly relaxed, with a look on his face that translated into 'what did I do wrong?' Charlotte, however, remained tense, as though expecting him to burst at any second.
"We're almost there!" Mola laughed, running up a path at the side of the cliff. "Wanna go the fun way?"
Stranger grunted. "I don't think I'll like your 'fun way'." He muttered. But they followed anyway. Mola skipped along the top of the canyon, grinning exitedly. The light started fading over the cliffs in the distance, painting the sky violet and blood red. The dusty limestone cliffs glowed faintly as the final rays of light struck their pale grey sides, leaving their mark in the steadily growing shadows. Crickets chirped loudly, and somewhere in the distance a bird cawed. Mola slowly shrank in the distance as he skipped along.
"What is he doing?" Charlotte asked herself, watching from a distance as Mola broke into a run. Stranger scanned the horizon, his hand over his eyes.
"I dunno," he said.
Charlotte sighed. "It looks like he's going to... MOLA!" She screamed as Mola suddently vanished over the edge of the cliff. The three steef took off running, horror shining in their eyes.
Odd, odd odd... Charlotte thought angrily. Why the hell can't he just sit still?!
They skidded to a hault as they came to the edge of the cliff. Charlotte shuddered violently, preparing to look over the edge at Mola's little, shattered body...
Shimmering in the evening light, about twenty yards down, was the wetland, abundant with sounds of life. A large foamy ring faded away where Mola had dived. He was floating on his back, grinning up at them.
"The water's great!" Mola shouted, failing to notice the immense anger building on the steef's faces. Charlotte stamped her foot, her fists clenched so tightly together that her arms shook.
"MOLA! Imma fvcking kill you!" She screamed, jumping in after him. For a moment she hung suspended in the air, stairing down at the water. She dropped like a rock and hit the water with a loud slap, causing Mola to flinch.
"Spare me!" He cried, backstroaking away as fast as he could. "I know not of what I do!"
She ran after him (the water was up to her neck), bristling with anger. Cyren leapt off the cliff with a triumphant roar, creating a gargantuain splash. Stranger searched the edge of the cliff for a way to climb down, but when he found none he shrugged and sprang forward.
By the time they reached the fortress it was dark. They entered the camp and were greeted by a deafaning roar as the grubbs cheered, glad to see their mission was a success.
Mola grinned and waved, absorbing the attention like a sponge. Cyren stood motionless, his eyes slowly searching the crowd for enemies. Ophelia pulled on Stranger's hand.
"Come," she said quietly. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn't smiling. In fact, she looked upset. "I'm afraid I have bad news."