I made my way down the hill quickly, there was much to do today and despite the early hour it felt like there was precious little time to do it. The sun had just started to give out the faintest hint of light to the east as I awoke, and now that the morning tasks were done it had well and truly risen, revealing a deep fog that settled in over the distant hills, and the cart now bouncing slightly on the rough-trodden dirt road that went by the farm.

By the time it came to a stop near my gate I was already there, unlocking it before leaning against the stone fence as Crawford (alone this time) stepped out of the carriage. The smile on his face was jubilant, and it only grew in fervor as he spotted me and made his way over.

“Arthur! It is good to see you again! How is the wyvern? How are you?”

I offered a hand for the man to shake, which he did jubilantly a moment before I spoke. “Ah’m fine, thanks for askin. The wyvern is healin’ well enough, bit fighthy but it left a dead whipperdrake on my doorstep this mornin, so ah think that’s as good a sign as any it’s warmin’ up to me a little.” Of course, I also didn’t mention how it bucked me like an onerous coo come heat, but that’s beside the matter.

“Wyverns imprint well, much like canids in that regard,” Crawford replied.

I nodded, having no idea what a ‘canid’ was but felt it was the right idea to nod regardless, in any case, Crawford continued.

“They bond particularly well to good hosts, so for one to warm up to you so quickly would make it quite clear it is enjoying the care it is being given.” Crawford’s smile lost it’s jubilant qualities as he said that, turning to something far more simpler and… calm, I suppose the word would be. “I must say you have done a remarkable job so far, might I enter your abode so that we can speak further, the weather in the Lowlands is… disagreeable with me.”

I glanced up towards the empty sky, faint traces of white clouds with a hint of rain further south. It was a bit chilly in the morning to be sure, but nothing that should be a problem. Of course, my mind was also mulling over the fact that apparently the previous host was so poor the beast was willing to warm up to me in the short time I’ve had it around. But I had my suspicions already just from the wounds caused by its bondage, my lips curled slightly at the thought but I nodded and gestured for the man to walk onwards.

Crawford bowed his head slightly in thanks, and with the walk of a man who clearly rarely walks on mud he made his way up the hill towards my small home with his hands clasped behind his back. His steps were heavy, struggling with the ground that had been rained on the previous night, mud caked his fancy shoes… he transitioned to walking on the roots and rocks rather quickly. My steps were a fair bit more practiced and quicker, and by the time he made it to the door I already had it held open and waiting for him.

“Thank you Arthur,” Crawford said, stepping past me and into the building proper. His muddy shoes added to the already mud-painted floor, but that, at least at that moment, was far from my worries.

“Feel free to take ah seat, ah don’t have much but ya can make yerself comfortable.”

Crawford took the invitation, moving to pull back one of the three seats at the table and sitting himself upon it. He may just have been the most finely dressed man to have ever entered this house, and for a moment he looked out the window towards the Wyvern pacing around in the paddock before he turned his full attention onto me. “Right, so I’ve gone ahead and gotten the tickets, you are sure of this… plan of yours?”

I nodded, leaning against the pantry wall. “Ah’ve got a gentleman coming today to pickup the cattle, he’s already paid, so I’ll be able to pay you back for that and the help you’ve given me so far. And hirin’ the help of yer carriage of course.”

Crawford stared at me for a moment before nodding, his fingers rapping lightly on the wooden table before he pulled back to lean against the seat. The old wood creaked at the motion, but held as steady as it had the last century it had been around. “Right, the train will take you directly into London from Glasgow, it’s one of the newer models so it should get you there rather quickly.”

“How long will it take? Never been to either city.”

Crawford jerked his head towards the door. “About an hour to get to Glasgow, then a good eight to get to London proper. If you’ve never been to Glasgow though, there are some things you should know.”

I stared at him, letting the silent question hang in the air before he continued.

“Expect to see more Wyverns about, both on the roofs and in building’s proper. Plenty more there than out here.” Crawford explained, his hands moved up to grasp each other as he talked. “Carriage pullers, fire lighters, general smaller breeds that hang around the roofs and hunt stray animals.”

“And if one were to attack some random bloke from the Lowlands?” I asked carefully.

Crawford shrugged. “Owner would be expected to pay due recompense, and there’s a size limit as to what is allowed on the street. The wyvern out there in the paddock for instance would have to be kept in a cage as we take it to the train.”

My gaze hardened and I glanced out the window. “What form of cage?”

“Oh plenty for it to be comfortable. Just something so that it can’t leap out to go after something, or fly away.”

I snorted, turning back. “It won’t be flying for some time yet, not that ah’m an expert on how these beasts work to begin with. Ah assume it’ll be loaded onto the train cage an’ all?”

“That would be the case, yes, it will be in its own sealed compartment. It… isn’t precisely cheap.”

I glanced past Crawford towards the coos eating outside. “That… has been taken care of. For now, when does this cage of yours arrive?”

---

To say the beast was unhappy about being dragged into the cage would be understating the matter, it took a good five men to actually get the muzzle around the beast’s snout, then all of their collective efforts to actually drag the thing into the cage. Still, the job was done, and the wyvern was now laying down in it as the farmland passed by behind me.

I didn’t miss the look of anger the beast gave me, but I was a fair bit more distracted watching my farm disappear behind me for… possibly the last time, to really care. To say it left me with no small amount of shame would be putting it lightly, but at the same time I didn’t really have a choice either. I could struggle and survive for another season, or I could gamble… and despite what the Lord said about gambling, sometimes a man has precious little choice but to do so with his fortunes.

“So why the fascination with Wyverns? And helpin’ me out for that matter.” The thought had been on my mind for some time, and I didn’t much trust the wealthy type in the city to care so much about the plight of some Lowland farmer.

Crawford gave me a slightly guilty smile from where he was sitting on the carriage’s indoor cushion. The inside was a fair bit more posh than any place I had been in prior. “I have had a fascination for the care of Wyvern’s since a younger age, I can actually thank McDunnough for that, he was touring when I was a younger boy and I had the chance to meet and speak with him.” His tone got more wistful as he spoke, and as his eyes glanced out the window I could tell he was reminiscing his earlier years.

“He taught me a great many things, so when he asked if I could come to assist with something, well…” Crawford turned back to look at me and shrugged his shoulders. “How could I not?”

“Ah’m afraid ah only knew him as the local teacher, and even then I didn’t see him too much.” I admitted, the man was knowledgeable on the beasts, but he never had much to say about his past in regards to them beyond showing off some racing trophies. As a child they had fascinated me of course, as did every other boy that age. But life rather ripped the fascination of such things away rather harshly.

In my case it was a mix of having to take care of the farm, and the fact that one had slammed into my barn and started to act like a half-tin housecat.

“He was quite a sight in his prime I am told,” Crawford replied. “But enough of that, I could talk about that all day. I will be accompanying you to London as it is a good excuse to take care of some of my own business, do you require assistance in locating the owner? You do rather… stand out.”

I glanced down at the clothing I was wearing, the finest I owned actually. A clean brown vest, undershirt, and blue tartan hanging down my waist. I was not the pinnacle of London high society, but I was not some Lowland beggar either. But, I was also dressed in a highly traditional fashion, that much I could admit. “Ah wouldn’t say no,” at the very least he could be an introduction.

Crawford smiles at that, “then we should head for Victorian Station when we arrive. Our destination would be the Grosvenor area, the land around Hyde’s park is a popular place for those of… a richer persuasion to show off their stock.”

I nodded, though I had no idea what he was talking about. Instead I looked out the window myself, settling for watching the terrain pass as Crawford rattled on more about the districts of London in the background.

---

Due to my position in the carriage I was afforded a view of Glasgow before Crawford was, not that the man could be surprised by it. I on the other hand… was. Miles upon miles of brick buildings stretched out east to west, chimney’s from their roofs sending black smoke into the sky that threatens to choke. To say Glasgow was larger than the town I grew up in would be like comparing a fire to the sun, there is no close comparison. The buildings, unlike those back in the village, mostly have flat roofs, and this at first confused me until I saw the plethora of airships perched atop them.

Even as we rode further into the city I could see several coming and going, wyverns strapped to them flapping their wings either to descend gradually or to take off into the air. That was impressive, but what had moved on from impressive to terrifying and mind boggling to equal measure was the industry that passed the windows by as the cart moved. For every draught horse pulling yard to move some stock, there was a large bestial wyvern with clipped wings pulling a load twice as large.

Near the approaching station I could see factories: smoke-stacks billowing and doors thrown open. This place too had more and larger wyverns than home: lighting fires and superheating metals. Blasts of intense fire lit the inside of the buildings every few seconds as the fires of industry were coughed up by shackled wyverns.

The sight of the bindings made my stomach churn, and I turned away towards the city proper. More of the beasts littered the rooftops, staring down at the roads below. It was a city filled with them, in everything that entailed.

“Impressed Arthur?” Crawford asked.

No… no I was not.