"Drugged? 'ow? Do 'hey use some kinda magic?" James wondered. James, after dismissing the idea of magic, turns back to Edward. "what’s your interest in 'em?"
It should be mentioned its expressed in some circles that the Pigs are drugged with Lacre, which recently i’ve had the experience of feeding some lacre to a boar out in the marshes near watchmakers hill. The beast lived but had a nap and still manage to threaten nearby creatures with its snores.
"the pigs 're really that dangerous? Why 'as no one talk about 'em before?" James ponders aloud, "if lacre is used to drug 'em, shouldn’t we ave brought some?"
The blood pumps, the blood pumps, the blood pu-
Hooves, tangled.
A wild, broken neigh.
A quick tip.
A thrown driver.
A crashed carriage.
A complete lack of survivors.
Wide open eyes of someone witnessing a tragedy.
An abrupt attempt at a turn.
A slip of hooves in the mud.
A tumble.
Broken spines, skulls, ribs.
Lungs punctured by the glass of a fully stocked wine cabinet.
Bodies lying out in the mud, half-covered by bloody newspaper sheets strewn about the scene.
The crushed corpse of a captain.
The broken form of an urchin.
The disfigured silhouette of a dandy.
A terribly failed expedition.
A Faustian endeavor.
A complete lack of survivors.
You were warned, O Faust.
You were warned.