Chapter Text
There's a man who sells the carcasses of mythical creatures from the back of a white van. He usually parks up under the arches, on Market Street, where the air constantly shakes with the traffic above on North Bridge and trains below arriving at Waverley.
It's hateful, seeing such beautiful creatures laid out on the stained floor of his rusty van, but sometimes I need an ingredient that only he can provide. Today it was Gowk feathers. I needed them in a hurry and had no time to go somewhere more reputable.
There was someone in the queue ahead of me, so I had to wait. Over her shoulder I could see the great body of a white stage, its head lolling out of the rear door. A brace of Wolpertinger hung from the roof, their feathers twitching in the diesel scented breeze.
The woman was given a package wrapped in brown paper, already dripping with black blood. She exclaimed with disgust and asked for a plastic bag. The butcher of wonders earnestly explained that he wouldn't provide single use plastics.
A gentrified savage. I swallowed my anger and pasted a smile on my face, as the lady stormed away and I took her place.