Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning
12 Roalis 2720
Gale had chosen this particular day to test the Steel Horse outside of the city limits; it was a clear enough day, relatively comfortable with low winds making it optimal for testing conditions. Given they had spent the last few days locked away within the forge to catch up with requisitions and orders it was a good change of pace that the metal smith was more than willing to partake in. With a pack full of tools, a half-gallon full of kerosene and a flask of water, Gale wheeled the Steel Horse from their forge, out through the morning activity that clogged the city streets. The rest of them was their usual dishevelled self; a tangled mess of hair, the rough leather boiler suit hung half open, goggles resting upon their crown while leather gloves protected their digits. They gave a sharp inhale as they took in the morning air, loaded the top fire piston into the ignition hole and did the last of their safety checks on the vehicle - because it was a vehicle, Gale had to accept that now. Topped up with kerosene and water, Gale pulled back the spring in the fire piston and released it; the inside hissed as the spark flared within. Another pull back, it hissed again; the third time the engine juddered into life. It released a putter, the slow gradual turn of the crank shaft rotating, the pistons squeaking into life. It chuffed, a low satisfying clunk as parts continued their rotation, the small vibration traversing up their limbs.
Gale inhaled again, deeper this time as they swung a leg over and perched upon the seat, their feet flat on the ground. It was clicked into gear on the handle, the smith straightened their back as they steeled their soul for what was next with a quiet mantra beneath their breath.
"Just like riding a bike."
It was not like riding a bike.
The Steel Horse jerked forward beneath their touch, the smith snapped their feet up onto the footrests as it pulled away. Frame wobbling, their fingers curled tighter around the handlebars as they focused on maintaining balance. They gradually increased their speed, the palpitations gathering in their chest as they felt the sting of the wind against their features. They bounced over every bump, jostling as they controlled the steering and disappeared off down country lanes.
They took the River road; eyes wide as they watched the green of summer open up before them and the verdant shades cast shadows over the path. They fumbled awkwardly with their left hand for their goggles, pulling them down over their eyes and returning it to the vigorous grip on the handlebars. The scent of burning kerosene followed them, the constant chuff of noise and the indentations left on the road marking their passage. The scarf trailed behind them, the tools clattering as they found a comfortable speed to stick at and continued their journey. For every wince there was a turn of the head in curiosity, the landscape ever-shifting around them faster than if they were riding a pedal bicycle.
With it Gale felt their body grow lighter, the previous dread that lingered melting away and growing into calm. They went with each bump and snare in the road, instead of resisting they bounced, knees absorbing the small shocks - they made a note to check the suspension and look at tweaking the front wheel fork for a smoother ride. It was the minor details they had to iron out to make the whole experience that more comfortable. That was not to say they were coming out bruised, by the inexperienced Smith in the realm of cycling knew it could be better. Perhaps something with springs would help.
For a time they continued to ride; listening to the ever chuffing engine, leaning to the side as they snaked the Steel Horse down the path. It was only as they felt the engine growing warm by their ankle that they realised it was best to stop. They released the accelerator, pumped on the brakes - a little too hard the first time, causing Gale to jerk roughly forward - before squeezing with a gentler touch. Eventually, they came to a stop, the engine slowing to a near grind as they planted both feet upon the ground. Another minute of waiting, the engine stalled out and stopped.
Dismounting, Gale set up its leaning stand - two sturdy steel arms that unhooked from the side and pivoted to the ground - removed their tools and began to do the checks.
The engine was still warm, they could feel the heat a few inches away. As for the water tank, it was a similar heat, so taking up a rag they unscrewed the cap. Steam poured forth, the condensation smothered Gale's lenses, the hand swatting away the moisture as it hissed into the summer air. They chose this moment to step away and leave the machine to cool on its own, the goggles lifted from their face and the eyes blinking. The sunlight made them wince, the kerosene fumes leaving the faint odour that reminded them of burning sulphur and coal smoking out across the river. They took a perch upwind of the Steel Horse on the bank, flipping out their tools and contemplating the tweaks they may have to make in the field.
It was all a matter of waiting patiently for it to cool; then they could begin to work.
Nature existed around them; deer roamed some distance down the riverside, the faint whistling of birds and chattering of squirrels tickled at their ears, insects buzzing alongside the groan of wood and leaf was carried in the wind. It was a far cry from the city sounds, they did not rattle against the skull or pollute the senses with smog and grey. Lungs that would normally wheeze instead eased and the occasional hacking cough was reduced to a throaty grumble. But despite it all, it did not stop the smith from lighting up a cigarette - Cherrywood and Co, whatever that brand was - and tasting the mellow, walnut taste that permeated from the tobacco. At least, until they were interrupted.
Gale gave a lean from their seat when they heard the voice. The brow furrowed, green eyes squinting in the direction of the speaker.
Male. Human? Accented. Too far away to feel for field.
He was a distance, but Gale did not miss the bow sticking from behind his shoulder.
Armed. Bow. Traditional weapon, velocity driven. Scruffy. Well worn clothing. Travelled. Maybe not human. Wick?
The frown deepened, the lips twisting as they pinched the cigarette between them. Removing it, Gale spoke up, a single hand raised in a half, informal greeting - though their eyes gave a check the wrench was within grasping range.
"It's a bicycle." They began with a half-truth, "Dunnae mind it Kov, just got a bit hot and now it's doin' a wee cool."
A bit was perhaps an understatement; a steady stream of steam was still pluming out from the open cap and escaping into the air. It was mildly surprising considering Gale filled it to the top; they would have to check for leaks. For now, they would just have to play nice with the stranger on the road.
Gale cleared their throat, opened their pack of cigarettes and thumbed the paper roll-ups inside.
"Ye want a smoke, stranger?" They gave a small shake of the cigarette case, "Ye're doing a mighty bit of ogglin' there. You ne seen a bicycle before?"
Gale sighed, pulled a face, and then promptly spoke bluntly at him.
"Why do you have a bow?"