Winter had come early to Myrken Wood. Snow fell quite frequently this year, even though the season had just begun. Thankfully, it was not yet sticking, which should have made it all seem more magical than annoying. Still, Glenn Burnie was finding it quite the annoyance as he wiped his eyes while he and his companion walked silently through the streets, past the wall, and towards the Remedium. Very little seemed magical anymore, but that was fine. The de facto administrator of the province didn't like magic one bit.
He did, however, like humanity, and he liked great feats of daring and ingenuity; they had even managed one of those not long ago. Now it was time for the prime participant in that experiment to reap the benefits of his involvement, relatively meager as they may be. The two men walked up the steps of the Remedium, with Burnie greeted with familiarity if not warmth. He was a frequent occupant after all. "Well then, Tennant," he would begin as he practically burst through the door of the man's room. "I hope you're fully recovered. We thought about giving you some sort of medal for a time, but really, that would be rather poor form, don't you think? Instead, we'll stick to the letter of our agreement and so long as you capture this malleable malefactor, well, then you can have one, along with your freedom. I think, oh, two months is plenty of time, given the season and the fact the trail might have grown cold, and as I said," Burnie spoke on, his nearly legendary lung power being put to full use. "we've found a highly capable Constable to aid you in your task," and, of course to act as his parole officer and keep close tabs on him.
"So then," and Burnie would nod to the man beside him, "Tennant... Tolleson is it?" In this society surnames truly had little meaning. There likely wasn't another Tennant currently in Myrkentown after all. It was a bit of an odd name. Burnie would, however, assume that he shared his name with Genny. "meet.. Corporal Seasons," and yes, when the word "corporal" was spoken it was with just a bit of distaste. The man insisted and there seemed little harm in it, but it still grated just a little, and Burnie might get to the bottom of the title or name, or whatever it was, if he ever got around to it. Unfortunately for his curiosity, the Constable's secrets were quite far down the list. "I hope you'll get along smashingly and we can bring this affair to a swift and satisfactory conclusion."
