Cal felt a cold pit in his stomach. We? He swallowed once, trying to curb the nervousness. “Honestly, I’m just out and about. I was with friends but got carried away from them in the midst of some excitement. And you? What brings you out to this planet? The Galra aren’t generally well received here.”
Perhaps the other would also reveal how many Galra were with him to mention a ‘we’…His hand reflexively gripped around the handle of his - where was his walking stick? Cal’s ears flicked up and he turned a quick circle. “Curses…where is that damned thing?”
“Galra are generally not received well anywhere,” Gato drawled, rolling his eyes, though he didn’t feel particularly sad about that fact. People never knew when something was good for them. “Which does make me wonder why you came here… I mean- Not trying to implicate a lack of skill, but surely it’s a little harder for you to escape harm?” He followed the other’s ‘glance’ and his ears perked up when he spotted the end of the cane sticking out of the bushes.
“Hold on, I’ll get it…” Thanking the Spirits that the other was not able to see, Gato leaned over the thorny branches on tiptoes, precariously balancing with his tongue poking out. He managed to pinch the cane with his claws and slowly tugged it free.
“Hnngh…. Okay, okay, here we go.” He huffed when the item was finally in his grip and gently placed it into the other’s hands. “My rifle should be here somewhere, too… I’d loath to return without it… No to mention it’s harder to hunt with a knife if you want to capture something alive.” He took a good look around.
“Aah, there it is!” Carefully, he stepped over the thorns. “We’re just capturing things for the arena.”