It took everything in Spot's power not to just grab the hunk of lamb and run. He'd sworn to the humans never to steal again as soon as the Brigade became official all those months ago, but the whole idea of currency still felt silly to him. Still, if he was going to live among them, he had to play by their rules.

Especially if it meant the townsfolk would take him more seriously. The young man running the market stall still gave him an incredulous look as Spot dug through the messenger bag slung over his back. How many times had he been by this stall now? Three, four? How long would it take before people were greeting him like anyone else?

Finally, Spot came up with the coins necessary to buy the lamb. He could only hope he wasn't giving too many of them; he still hadn't learned the values of the darned things, and Silver would give him an earful if he learned an unnecessary amount of Brigade resources had vanished into the humans' hands. At least he wasn't short, as the merchant seemed happy enough and handed Spot his food.

Spot thanked him, earning another bemused stare at the Dalmatian's fluent Terran. And then another as he checked to make sure he wasn't about to bowl anyone over (not after last time), braced himself, and took off into the sky.

The smells and sounds of the busy market quickly faded into the distance. The smoky, watery smell of the open air was less interesting to be sure, but there was a certain joy in zipping through the clouds unhindered. Magical flight seemed to be a rare ability, if not entirely unique to him; if Spot didn't have cargo, he'd be doing tricks, showing off the skills he'd honed in his training. Anything to spread the Brigade's fame, right? Especially now that they'd thrown their hat into the ongoing battles that plagued all the nearby cities. Those HGO guys could use all the help they could get defending the people.

Today, though, Spot had other priorities. He flew west, legs held close to boost his aerodynamics like he'd been taught, the cold air flowing smoothly around him. It was a long trip, but one he'd made many times. He knew the way like he knew the spots on his paws. With the wind in his ears, he could only barely make out the gentle hiss of waving grasslands below, until that sound gave way to the deep bass of ocean waves crashing against the shore. The smell of saltwater filled his nose.

Chikara was waiting, just like always. Spot circled down and landed gently in the soft sand, then pulled his bag up over his head and set that down between them.

"I brought some lunch," Spot said with a grin.

Chikara looked down over his long beak. Demeanor aside, his mix of bird and human features made him especially difficult to read; Spot had long since given up trying. Finally, he said, "I don't need to eat."

"Oh. Well, you can, right?"

"... You are an odd beast." Despite the protest, Chikara sat cross-legged in the sand and held out a hand, distinctly human in contrast to the wicked talons on his feet.

Sticking his nose in his bag, Spot dug out the smoked lamb and offered over one of the legs.

"Did you take those all the way from Aston?" Chikara asked.

"Yeah," Spot answered, voice muffled around the second lamb leg before he placed it on top of the bag to eat. "Why do you ask?"

"They're cold."

"Oh... Does that matter?"

A small chuckle shook Chikara's feathered shoulders. "We don't have time to correct it. Your training will be difficult today."

Spot nodded eagerly, already having ripped a big chunk of lamb off the bone, juices dripping down his chin. Humans sure did make some good food. He swallowed and said, "Give me everything you've got."

It was critical that Spot learn to master his powers as soon as possible. Not just flight, but all the other magical abilities he had locked up until very recently. He couldn't afford another accident.

And besides, he had one heck of a Chosen One legacy to live up to.