No Mourners, No Funerals

53.✓

An idea had been itching at the back of the Grisha boy's head. Though, he wasn't too sure what itched more, the dried blood, or the idea that had been pestering since he had sat down to rest. 

He needed to stop thinking like a farm boy, but not completely. Vlam came to realize that when he was getting his ribs kicked in by those damned Razorgulls. 

Though, he found it hard to completely think like a Barrel Rat. Maybe he needed to think just outside the box of a farmer. That's when this idea dawned on him. 

Teach Oiche how to steal purses. 

The boy knew he could do it, and he knew Oiche could as well. It wouldn't be hard either, she knew how to fetch over distance, and she could associate items with words. 

Though, Vlam would need a few things first. Obviously one of those items was a purse itself, next he'd need some sort of reward, she seemed to like the jerky well enough. Lastly, he'd need time. 

Estimating, the farm boy thought it'd take a day to learn the word for purse, he was planning on using Sparán. It was simple and in a language she already knew.

So, the Grisha boy forced himself to his feet and made his way to the Lid. The walk took longer than he'd like to admit, plus he got a lot of weird looks when he actually hit the Lid, looking like he had just crawled out of the worst of the Barrel, and the dog didn't help. 

Vlam forced himself up a relatively simple building after instructing Oiche to wait for him at the bottom. It was still a difficult climb for him, and he was praying that he wouldn't fall once more. After making himself as comfortable as possible, he started studying the crowds. 

How they moved, how they held their belongings. Mostly, he was studying the purses, how the ones who appeared to have more money held their purses lighter. Then those who had less kruge to their name basically clutched their bags.

The boy studied them like a wolf hunting their prey, patient and taking in every detail he could. When he saw thieves stealing purses, he made sure to pay especially close attention. Sure, he only needed one, however, he wasn't going to get arrested trying to gather materials to train his dog to be a better thief than he could probably ever hope to be. 

After an hour or two, Vlam carefully made his way back down, occasionally he tripped, though he didn't fall this time.

Now, Vlam made his way onto the Lid, taking note of the purses around him. He only looked out of the corner of his eyes, thinking that staring at every purse would make him look a bit more suspicious. 

When Vlam found a perfect victim, he was able to slide the purse over her shoulder and under his coat, just like he'd seen the other thieves do. Yes, his method could need some work, a lot of it at that.

Though, nobody expected a beaten farm boy would be snatching purses. Out of pure luck, he was able to vanish into the crowd right before the woman noticed her missing handbag.

The pride the teen felt when he limped back into an alleyway was confusing to him the most. Yes, he was glad that he wasn't caught, but he wasn't sure why he was proud. Brushing the confusing and mildly conflicting emotions away, he dumped the contents of the purse onto the cobblestone floor. 

A decent wad of kruge, enough to buy plenty of jerky he could use to train Oiche, a simple pocket watch, and lastly, a small ring Vlam liked the look of. It was a silver band with a touch of turquoise. 

He probably should sell it off, or throw it into the canal, but he couldn't force himself to. So, he slipped it onto his hand and dumped the watch into the canal, and hid the purse in an old box.