He stood up and dusted off his coat, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly, I'd rather be outside. Fresh air, open sky. Better than being cooped up in this oversized barn surrounded by the stink of livestock."
As he said it, he waved a hand toward the Mooncalf nearby and scowled. "You lot stink. Don't even pretend you've ever heard of soap."
The cows blinked at him lazily in response. Then he turned back to his partner with renewed excitement.
"And hey, don't forget, we get to test out that new gear the boss just handed out! That's something, right?"
The older wizard, gave a skeptical grunt. "You mean that weird vest?"
The younger one wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Yeah, that hideous thing. No style, no flair. Just dull and ugly. Don't go acting like it's some amazing treasure, Bar."
Hidden behind the pen's low rail at, Shalltear bit her lip, barely holding back a laugh. She couldn't help but agree with the complaint.
As one of the designer over at Wilson's Arcane Alchemica, she'd always hated those tactical vests. She had tried more than once to add a touch of elegance, something sleek, maybe even a bit flashy, but Alex had shot down every suggestion.
Practicality, he insisted, was more important than appearance. He even made her paint them in that awful blocky camouflage. It was enough to make her want to cry.
Back at the pen, the robed wizard finally gave up on his shoelaces and stood tall, irritation flashing in his eyes as he shot a glare at his younger companion. "That vest's not for fashion," he said coldly. "It's made for fighting."
"The simpler and more practical something is, the better," Shalltear muttered under her breath, sneering in disdain from her hiding place.
"Add too many fancy decorations and you'll just end up getting laughed at in a real fight." Her tone was biting, clearly unimpressed by the wizard's shallow complaints.
If her family's elders had heard this conversation, they might've actually considered promoting the trench coat wizard to a trusted advisor.
"You haven't even tried it on," the older wizard snapped, raising an eyebrow. "How can you say the gear isn't any good?"
He gave a subtle motion with his head, and the younger man leaned closer, curious.
Dropping his voice, the wizard said, "I actually gave it a go the day it came in, snuck into the back and tested it myself. And let me tell you, it worked even better than the notes claimed.
The vest's got an auto-trigger enchantment. Someone tries to sneak up and hex you? It activates a full-body Protego.
With your level of magic, you could stand still and take spells head-on for a good half-minute, and they'd bounce right off."
"Wait, seriously? Protego? I don't even know how to cast that one yet," the younger wizard said, wide-eyed. "So the vest just... does it on its own?"
"Exactly. I saw it myself," his companion nodded. "But don't go telling everyone, yeah? Or I'll have to think twice before trusting you again." He gave the younger wizard a playful nudge in the ribs.
"Relax," the younger wizard said with a grin. "I didn't say a word when John nicked that Billywig sting extract last time, did I?"
The older wizard gave him a strange look, confused for a second. Wasn't the story that John had gotten stung by a Billywig and floated around the staff quarters like a balloon for an hour?
He shook the thought away and focused. "Anyway, about the vest, you were asking where the boss got it, yeah? It's imported, apparently from the same folks who make those cheap lamps lighting up the park.
A company called Wilson's Arcane Alchemica. Brought in through one of those private firms we're partnered with."
"Wilson's Arcane Alchemica?" the younger one echoed, intrigued.
"They're huge," the windbreaker wizard went on. "I heard they moved their whole operation to West Germany. Real big names over there."
The safari wizard let out a wistful sigh. "Shame we only get to leave once every six months. Even then, we have to wipe all our work records before stepping out.
Honestly, I'd love to bring one of those lamps home, they're cheap but solid. Still, we've no idea what's happening outside anymore."
"Yeah, and even if you did manage to leave," the older wizard said, chuckling, "you wouldn't be able to buy one. The guy who just came off shift told me those lamps are only sold in East Germany now."
"What?" the younger wizard frowned. "Why only there? What, are the East Germans trying to pull something shady again? Why do they always get the good stuff?"
The windbreaker wizard shook his head. "No clue. Once we step into this park, it's like being sealed off from the world.
No news, no weather reports, nothing. If it weren't for the decent pay and the boss who actually keeps us fed and housed, no one would even consider taking this job."
The younger wizard crossed his arms, scowling. "Next time we go out, I hope we hear West Germany's finally declared independence or something. I'm getting tired of being lumped in with the East."
"Who knows," the older one said with a tired smile. "Young people these days, someone feeds them a few wild rumors and they just run with it."
"Let's move. No point wasting time. If we don't wrap up this patrol on schedule, the boss'll chew us out again," said the wizard in the windbreaker, pausing to tighten his shoelaces.
After double-checking they weren't too snug, he stood up and glanced at the others.
"Not trying to hold you back or anything," muttered the wizard in the hunting coat, "but you lot seem to be chatting more than working."
His eyes drifted forward, narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute... why did the Thunderbird suddenly go quiet? Wasn't it completely riled up the other day?"
"Who knows?" the windbreaker wizard replied with a shrug. "Magical beasts like that are unpredictable.
A few days back it was flapping around, screeching, nearly tore through the holding pen. Had everyone in the staff room on edge.
But now it's dead silent. You telling me that's not weird?" He spat on the grass and muttered something under his breath.
"Maybe it finally settled down after being locked up for two days," the hunting wizard suggested offhandedly.
"Could be it realized fighting doesn't get it anywhere. Maybe they'll move it back to its special enclosure soon."
"Well, the boss isn't wrong, keeping that thing fed and calm takes a load of effort," said the windbreaker wizard, shaking his head. "It's not just some common creature. They're keeping it for breeding once it matures."
"Yeah, I've heard them talk about finding a female thunderbird to pair it with, but it's been years and there's still only this one. Honestly, they should've moved it to a proper habitat ages ago.
Leaving it here just freaks everyone out. Once it's fully grown, I doubt anyone'll be able to handle it," the hunter added, frustration clear in his tone.
"Move it? You kidding?" the windbreaker wizard scoffed.
"I've worked here for years. Never seen a single creature transferred, except maybe the old ones, and even then, no clue where they ended up. You ever heard of anyone coming back from a transfer mission?"
"Don't ask questions like that," said the senior wizard sharply.
"Just keep your head down and do your job. Asking too much around here could land you in real trouble. You start poking your nose where it doesn't belong, you'll be lucky if all you lose is your job."