Had Zach completed the training Hidebound claimed to have given him, he would have known that the impact of a bullet while wearing a vest is like a kick to the breadbasket by a medium-sized ungulate with smallish hooves. Had Hidebound been trying to show off, he might have used his favorite example, the okapi.
This would not have helped Zach, who believes that okapis are total nerds from Japan.
“Whough,” he says, falling gracelessly, denied any useful point of comparison. The Vulpine Phalanger has already vanished. Hidebound curses himself for aiming at the center of mass: training, you know.
“We thought they’d just want a little graft and service off the top–protection, you know, not unusual in these parts–but they won’t leave us alone.” Jay shakes his head. “They want more. They want too much, and the things they want to do with my boys ain’t right. So I get to thinking that for less than what they’re skimming–”
“You could just hire a gun hand,” Pimal nods.
“We can pay,” says Jay.
“Well, I have to say,” she says, split by a crooked smile, “that’s the first time I’ve ever had a whore say that to me.”