Bawn: Eastern Forest

Gradually, the dense forest gives way to more mixed vegetation, as trees become less pervasive and undergrowth takes over. Spotty clearings filled with short scrub and bushes dominate the forest floor, with only a few game trails to make paths through the tangled growth. The forest that is here seems to loom, as if resenting handing over land to lesser plants. Small rustlings come from the bushes and patches of high grass. Who knows what is concealed here?

To the north, the sounds of the interstate are audible in the distance, while to the east, the ground begins to rise into tumbled piles of rocks and shallow gullies.

Contents:

Wolf-Heart

Obvious exits:

Bone Arches Into the Caern Southern Bawn Northern Bawn Central Bawn Eastern Mountains

Wolf-Heart makes his way along the low grasses, near silent on his patrol. The warming weather has him breathing slightly harder, but the noise is lost to the wind. All manner of things are coming alive with the now-present spring, and many of which command Keeps the Wolf's attention. One might wonder if he's patroling or if he is looking for lunch.

If it could be called one, this 'wolf' is almost a classic show of Canis Lupus Arctos. His thick coat is a clean gray, near-white of a wolf of the arctic, stretched over a sharp frame. However, he is entirely too huge to be a wolf: at the shoulder, he stands easily four and a half feet tall, and six feet long. Easily the size of a small pony, his head and Jaws seem even more out of proportion to the rest of him, as if more suited for tearing apart animals then eating them. His ribs are slightly apparent, and his hide shows where many of the bones are from months of lean eating. His face and muzzle is smattered with musky light gray fur, giving him the appearance of a 'mask' and a clear indication of a mixed heritage. If you get close enough to count hairs, a few red ones are visible amongst the coat. Some of the hairs around his head have grown longer than others, giving him as short white, 'mane' in the form. Four legs connect with the ground, ending in sharp ebon claws, and his tail is tipped with another gray splotch. Brown eyes peer out from under the brow of the beast with unmistakable intelligence.

Holds-the-Line trots in from the north, nose down and tail up. She doubles back frequently, finding, then losing, then finding the trail again - whatever scent it is she follows. The wolf is so intent on her track that she doesn't even flick an ear toward the scolding of a squirrel who dashes for the safety of a tree.

Wolf-Heart's head picks up again, the squirrel's dash getting his attention, then finally causing him to break. The Ahroun dashes for, and narrowly misses making a meal out of, the rodent as it runs for the tree. The Wolf glares up the tree, spitting out the mouth full of fur. He just then realizes the Elder, startling back with a short bark of surprise. Holds-The-Line-Rhya. When did you get here?

Holds-the-Line's head snaps up at the blur of white fur. Her butt plops down in the same instant, her manner full of surprise. I have always been here. What are you... oh, the squirrel. Tree-rat. Her orange eyes consider the chittering beast for a moment, then refocus on the other wolf. I was looking for you.

Wolf-Heart's tongue keeps scraping against his teeth, trying to get the fur out of it as he glares on up to the missed lunch. Finally, he gets it out to his satisfaction, offering one last 'you where lucky' glare up to the rodent. Yes. Good. They need to talk, Keeps the Wolf and Holds the Line. Important things, he agrees.

Holds-the-Line flicks a bemused ear. What do we need to speak of? I still have not spoken to Firewatcher. I do not know how what she says changes the Challenge of Paints-with-Light, but those of us Who Walk Among the Glass are not pleased. Tribe is not something to be forced.

Wolf-Heart grunts out agreement, but is mostly focusing on shifting his way up and backing away to give the Elder her room. He stops in hispo, taking a moment to let the bones crack their way back into place. ~I heard you spoke to Pierces Ice Rhya.~ He states simply.

Both of the Walker's ears flick back at the sudden shift, but just as quickly lift again. I did, yes, she answers, a hint of agitation ruffling her fur.

~She stated that you said there where Roach-Wolf traditions for vision questing. I find this odd, since everyone else I have asked in the tribe stated that no such thing exists, so to pursue in any way that works.~ Keeps the wolf fluffs his fur as well, eyes opening wide and rounding out in a displeased sort of way. ~I can only assume that Holds the Line knows something everyone else doesn't, then.~

Holds-the-Line slowly stands, her lips pulling away from her teeth, ears and tail held high. It makes me wonder that Wolf-Heart spoke to all the others who Walk Among the Glass, but not to his alpha, she answers simply, her eyes meeting his levelly. And yes, this one does know things that others do not.

Wolf-Heart glances away, looking down to the dirt. ~Firewatcher is my Alpha. You are Alpha, and only because Alpha forces it so.~ He grumbles back, tail shifting slight in behind him to his side. ~And when I asked, you where not even here. This is before you came in and became Elder in two groups of seven days.~

Holds-the-Line keeps her eyes on him. Then I do not see a problem. I have not decided if I will speak to Firewatcher of how Wolf-Heart asked Pierces-Ice for help when Firewatcher said he must not.

~I asked... because I was told to by the Master of Rite.~ The Hispo states flatly. ~Sings to the Spirit Rhya said 'go speak to the Wendigo Elder, she knows.' And I will add Firewatcher-rhya only said I should not ask of joining other tribes. She said nothing about me asking for instruction in rites and rituals.~

Holds-the-Line thinks that Wolf-Heart seeks to split hairs. She sits, deliberately yawning.

~I think Holds the Line perhaps said something not entirely true to Pierces Ice.~ Keeps the Wolf Counters, hackles fluffing more as his eyes widen further.

Holds-the-Line's lips peel back again in an eager grin. Does Wolf-Heart call me a liar?

~To no one yet.~ He growls back, digging into the ground with his massive forepaws again. Teeth are shown for a bare moment, before he tosses his head slightly. ~But I would very much like to see that no such thing is true.~

Holds-the-Line continues to watch the younger wolf with a definite sense of eagerness. Then perhaps Wolf-Heart should... say again what he just said to me about Pierces-Ice. She stands, muscles tense, tail wagging ever so gently.

Wolf-Heart stands up as well, tail held strait out like some sort of pan handle out his rear. ~I said she said you said that there are traditions for vision questing in the Glass Walker Tribe.~ He repeats, head tensing up as he glares on down at her neck. ~And that you may be acting against me through Pierces Ice Rhya.~

Holds-the-Line's fur bristles so that - for a second - it appears as though she's shifting to a larger form. ...You think I am cowardly enough to have to go behind your back to keep you in your place? she wonders carefully, a light shining in her eyes. Are you challenging my honor?

~Every other Roach-Wolf I have asked says no such thing exists. I asked Scar-Rhya the day he left, and he repeated firm that the Roach-Wolves have no such traditions; that I should speak to those who fallow Chimera. Are you saying that you are greater than Scar-Rhya himself?~ Keeps the wolf closely mirrors Holds the Line's body language, massive claws curling further into the dirt.

I say that I know things Scar does not, the beige wolf replies. And you are not answering my question. Again.

~And do you say the same thing for Deadeye? And Blue-hair? Are you proclaiming yourself wiser than the whole tribe at this sept?~ The Hispo prowls forward a step, ears splayed out to the side.

Holds-the-Line holds her ground, unmoved by the threat. It is of no use talking to you. You hear only what you wish and twist the rest into insult. She turns her back deliberately and heads back toward the northern bawn at a slow trot. Until you wish to listen to what I say, return to chasing your tail.

~You haven't said anything other than I am an insolent pup! Perhaps if you would be so kind to enlighten me what these alleged traditions are.~ And he's not chasing his own tail, he's following after Nat's, prowling after the Elder at roughly the same pace.

Holds-the-Line stops, not speaking, so that he must either run into her or stop himself.

Wolf-Heart grinds to a halt, a hairs breath from the Elders tail. His head twists and shakes a little, almost eager for the Elder to start something.

Wolf-Heart growls, turning slightly as he twists away, stalking off to the side until he is a couple of feet away. He stays away from the marked dirt as if stepping over into it would be tantamount to taboo. ~You cannot claim territory on the Bawn.~ He rumbles, eyeing the dirt regardless. ~No one may. It is for Chimera alone.~

Holds-the-Line again doesn't respond, just resumes her leavetaking. One might suspect that she did that deliberately. ...Nah.

Wolf-Heart hurries around (not through!) the claimed spot, rapidly closing on the Elder's tail. Again, he rumbles out the question again. ~What are these supposed traditions that no one but you know about?~

Holds-the-Line whirls, giving Wolf-Heart a faceful of teeth. I am not in heat, she warns with a growl. And if I were, I would not mate with you if you were the last pureblooded kin on Gaia. Leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you.

~Then you will go to Pierces Ice and say there are no such traditions.~ He Snarls back, tail whipping around behind him like some some angry snake attached to his bum.

Holds-the-Line repeats stubbornly, I have nothing to say to you. I will not lie for you or about you. Now. Leave me alone or I will take it as a challenge. Once more she turns and tries to leave the ahroun behind.

~No traditions exist.~ He repeats-snarls, jaws opening a crack. He whips around, thundering off. ~If there where... you would think the tribe would know of them. That is what traditions are: things that people know and follow. You are, at best, misguided.~

Holds-the-Line paces after him slowly, her head dropping. You insult my honor, then run off like a beaten cub, tail between your legs. You are a coward.

Wolf-Heart stops, not speaking, so that he must either run into him or stop herself. Wonder where he got that from.

Luckily for her nose, Holds-the-Line was following the errant Ahroun slowly enough that she's in no danger. When he stops she does, her eyes cool and calm.

Wolf-Heart sniffs idly at the air, trying his best to be casual. His body language gives him away, though. He makes a low Hmmmring noise. ~Odd, that I do not recall saying, 'I say, Holds the Line has no Honor.' Perhaps my memory is as bad as they say. I -do- recall saying you are misguided, and then you telling me to leave, yet following me when I do.~

The older wolf swings wide around the scarred one until she's facing him, perhaps some five feet away. That is because you do not listen to what you or anyone else says, but chatter like a squirrel. You poke and pester and whine until someone says something that you think you can twist into meaning what you want it to mean. I say you are a coward. I say you do not have the heart of a wolf. Now. If you wish to challenge me over these words, do. If not, accept them as true and leave. Me. Be.

Wolf-Heart's anger is near explosive, the Hispo suddenly going from mostly passive to damn near frothing outraged. His head jerks side to side, teeth gashing at the air as his hackles don't just fluff, they rise strait up. Paws slash at the dirt, and the tail finishes this lovely image by sticking out strong. You him fight now! Fight make you submit!

Holds-the-Line remains in lupus, all aquiver. You have the heart of a weasel, she presses. Not even enough honor to accept when you are wrong, or make amends.

Wolf-Heart gashes his teeth at the Elder, teeth coming dangerously close to her nose. No two-legger babble! Fight now, make you submit! His paws slash at the ground again, sending dirt flying.

Holds-the-Line shows her teeth again, but doesn't make a move toward the other garou. She's practically trembling now from the effort of holding herself back. You want to fight me, fight me. Don't just bark about it and whine that I attacked you. She waits a half second longer before adding another pointed, coward.

Wolf-Heart doesn't bite, but his chest bangs up against the side of the smaller lupus' head. You submit! He continues, trying to assert dominance over her in the only way that can come to mind right then. As if he is thinking.

Holds-the-Line ducks away from the attempted contact, swelling up to hispo in a flash of rage. She lunges for the other wolf with jaws wide.

If Keeps the Wolf was violent and near explosive before, the Hispo finally does with the failure of the now-hispo to submit. The pent up rage of the dozens of arguments finally comes out in blows, like some deranged Wolverine. The First strike is the old Ahroun's gift to try and topple the errant Elder, followed by a mad flurry of blows with intensity he's never inflicted on anyone or anything. The Hispo then bites down, trying to tear into Hold-The-Line's whatever... he doesn't care. He's all for tearing her into submission.

Though Holds-the-Line is swift as she leaps forward to tear into Keeps-the-Wolf, the young Ahroun is faster, his massive body knocking into hers, making her stagger... but she doesn't fall, and the blow does nothing to keep her fangs from slicing into the Ahroun's flesh, tearing along his neck and shoulder. It's the only blow she gets in, as the Ahroun continues to attack with the fury of his auspice; his claws slice into her side, laying her open to the ribs, and then his own jaws bite and tear, sinking into the Galliard's leg, near the joint, and as they bear down there's an audible CRACK and, for the Galliard, savage agony.

Wolf-Heart doesn't stop blood flowing freely from his neck down to the dirt as he hip pounds at the Elder. Spittle still flies all over, his whole body quivering as he repeats the gesture to assert himself over her. The snarl dies off from the mouth full of flesh, and blood, now a gurgling noise. But the message is clear as daylight: Submit submit submit submit!

Wolverine's child yelps and twists away from those massive jaws, her leg dangling uselessly behind her. She's too close to the edge for words, so makes her answer with another leap for the Ahroun, shifting into Crinos as she does. Jaws slash and snap at neck and shoulder, claws rending at his flesh, her own shoulder driving into his side in an attempt to knock him off his feet. Her world's narrowed to a red haze of blood and fury and pain.

Wolf-Heart is likewise up to Crinos, the Ahroun rapidly losing ability to think rationally. He swallows the flesh and blood, falling back on the last thread of disciple he had... Jacinta's teachings. He swings for a round house at the Frenzying Elder's Head, then another for her stomach side, all the while bellowing unintelligently.

The two Crinos collide together as Holds-the-Line tackles Keeps-the-Wolf, and they both hit the ground with the Ahroun at the bottom. The Galliard snaps and snarls, but before she can land a good claw-swipe, Keeps-the-Wolf's huge fist slams into her skull with enough force to make her jaws snap together with a click... and blackness takes her.

Holds-the-Line can, perhaps, take comfort in knowing that at least /this/ time she did some damage before she fell unconscious. Perhaps. His fist swings her head around, darkness - and breed form - taking her before she hits the ground. She sprawls there, half on blood-soaked earth and half on him, chin unintentionally tipped skyward.

Wolf-Heart tosses the body off him, Standing up from all the lovely blood pouring down his chest and on his white coat. He bellers once more at the body, before standing over the unconscious body to placate his urge to assert himself over her. Finally, after a few moments, he finds his language again, bending over and slinging the Elder over his shoulder. ~You submit now! Always!~ As if she could hear it, anyhow. The Ahroun lumbers back to the farmhouse with her on his shoulder.

[Travel deleted]

The front door flies open, then shuts hard, quickly behind Alicia who strides into the farmhouse angrily, brushing grass and leaves off her jeans. She looks to be out of breath, her cheeks red. "What the fuck is going on?" She demands as she crosses into the living room after hearing the howl from the bawn, then racing back as fast as she could.

Flash, sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, appears to have heard the howl as well; the Gazer has his head cocked and is frowning thoughtfully. It's clear from his head-shake that he doesn't have a clue.

Joshua comes in through the back door, bloody and bleeding from the neck. The Young Ahroun has the body of one homid form Galliard Elder over his shoulder, and she looks just as bad as he does. No, worse: her legs dangle uselessly, looking torn and slashed, shoulder looks simply removed of flesh. He stomps and storms through kitchen, headed into the living room; luckily for the floor, all the wounds are bleeding on him. Thank god for small favors, eh?

"Josh, what the fuck just happened?" Alicia asks with a loud growl in her throat as she storms her way into the kitchen, squeezing her fists together. "What is this shit I hear you going on about, submitting and crap?" Her eyes fall upon Natalie's body, her eyes blazing in ferocity as she bares her teeth.

Flash's eyes widen. Silently, the metis closes the battered copy of _The Stand_ that he was reading and gets up to follow Alicia into the kitchen. There's dirt-smudges on the knees of his red jeans and another on his chin.

Joshua snorts, baring his teeth. The body is hefted slightly "She ask for fight, demand I fight her or else am Coward without Wolf! So we fight. I win, she lose. She submit. She ask, I give!" Seems he's on Tarzan speech for now, looking with curious fury at the metis, head tilting. "You. Gazer heal? Must be healed, so she ask and we fight again. Very bad hurt."

"You got about three seconds to start talking in English before I kick your fucking teeth in, shithead." Alicia says, barking at him. "I'm also the fucking healer here." She hisses between her teeth. "Put her down on the couch, -gently-."

It's probably the gutteral speech that pricks Dale's ears as he steps in through the front door, and he's *very* carefully closing it behind him. From what he's able to glean, in the few moments he's been inside, he translates for Alicia: "They argued. Then they fought. He won. She's hurt. He thinks she needs healing."

Joshua shrugs with one shoulder, instead heading up the stairs with the body to the infirmary. "Do not hurt shithead. He is just ugly Gazer. Done nothing wrong." He grunts back, stairs creaking under his step. "What Wyrm Burner says." He agrees, finishing up the stairs.

Flash opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. Then, hooking his thumbs into his beltloops, he nods. "Sounds about right, though I liked his version better."

Flash then protests, "Hey, I'll have you know I the finest doctors for this nose!"

"Flash, shut up." Alicia says with a grating voice, her fists clenching and unclenching as she follows Josh up the stairs.

[Travel deleted]

Infirmary

The gentle sunlight of spring illuminates the room in a fresh yellow glow. Thin white curtains keep the glare out while allowing enough light in to dispel shadows. A small ceramic heater sits on the floor near the bed, available for use when needed. A wide bed stands in the center of the south wall, white linens carefully tucked in around its mattress. A low table stands beside the bed, a small basin and pitcher perched atop it. Two large chairs sit facing the bed, and a small wooden chair sits against the south wall opposite the table. A tall cabinet occupies the northeast corner of the room, its glass door revealing a well-stocked medicine cabinet, various medical implements and supplies carefully arranged within.

The only exit from the room is a single door on the eastern wall.

Obvious exits:

HAllway

Flash enters from the hallway, a soft click issuing from the lock as the door closes.

Natalie's left leg does indeed dangle uselessly. There's even bits of bone poking through the immense bite in her upper thigh.

Joshua open the door with his free hand, slinging the body down onto one of the beds, nodding his head. "Heal. Rest. We fight again." He informs the unconscious body uselessly, rolling her onto her back. He furrows his brow, leaning into the body.

Alicia snaps her eyes over towards Josh. "She can't fucking hear you, moron. Now you better turn your brain back on to 'human', before I do it for you. Go downstairs, /now/, and cool off." With that, she begins rubbing her hands, ignoring the retarded talking Glass Walker and begins to hum a soft prayer under her breath.

Joshua nods dumbly at the Gaian, turning to leave for the bathroom. "Go shower now. Cool off faster that way. No blood on couch." Well at least he's thinking that far ahead.

Flash appears in the doorway, only the soft click of bootheels against floorboards betraying him. Hands clasped loosely behind his back and with an air of aloof interest, he looks in... and then steps back to let Josh exit.

Natalie grunts as she's flung, the struggle for consciousness finally winning out over the body's efforts to stay blissfully pain free. Words are still beyond her - whimpers and gasps are about all she can manage as her face twists into an awareness of what's been done to her.

"Fucking moron." Alicia whispers to herself as she shakes her head, then presses her hands against the worst of Natalie's wounds, allowing a shimmering blue light to pass over her tips momentarily, slowly beginning to knit the body together. The leg is first as she sets it, glancing up to Nat's face to make sure she is stabalizing.

Joshua leaves the quiet of the infirmary for the hallway, closing the door with a soft click.

First the hip heals, the bone knitting and flesh reforming under Alicia's care. Then the shoulder. When the Gaian finishes Natalie looks - if not better, at least able to move. Drive. Her face and sides still look like hamburger, and the shoulder isn't entirely healed. She opens her eyes, reluctantly, to stare at the ceiling of the infirmary.

Finishing, Alicia steps back to survey her work, clouded anger still raging in her eyes. She glances over towards Flash, then starts for the door, huffing out a breath. "Let her rest." She explains, then leaves the door hanging ajar.

"Aw," Flash deadpans. "And here I was hoping she'd watusi on my back." Stepping into the room, he walks over to the Walker's bed, bootheels clicking, and stands over her with hands behind his back. "Feel the need to absolve yourself of your sins?"

Natalie's eyes flick over to the 'Gazer. She grunts again, then rolls onto her side and pushes herself upright. "N..." She coughs, tries again. "No thank you. Screw resting; I gotta get back." Perhaps she doesn't wish to stay in the house, where Josh might appear at any moment.

Flash's eyebrows rise, but he offers her his arm gallantly enough. "I'll help you down the stairs. But only if you promise not to grope me."

"You take all the fun out of it," Nat complains, but lets him help her up anyway. "My truck's out back, near the barn." A too-fast move has her hissing between her teeth. "Damn. Bastard."

Flash helps the injured Glass Walker out into the hall and down the stairs. "Careful, Auntie. That bear done hurted you BAD." He lowers his voice and murmurs, "Next time? Lie down and pretend to be dead. I hear that works wonders."

Natalie offers him a pained show of teeth, though there's no heat behind it. "Next time I hope to be fighting something as intelligent as a bear."

Erika enters through the front door, just about as pigeon toed as Isaac at the moment. In fact, she has that wilderness-fresh scent! Smelling the stench of blood, the young Fenrir wrinkles up her nose. The expression of 'What the fuck?' is firmly planted on her face.

Flash and Natalie comes down the stairs together, the gangly Stargazer assisting the stocky Glass Walker.

Joshua takes a moment to realize Isaac is there, turning his head to look over to the Sliver Fang. "Hey, Isaac." He greets mellow-ish, a faint smile on his face. You'd think he didn't just nearly kill someone. He turns that same sort of half smile to Erika. "Hey, Judges Souls."

Isaac stays in his crouch by the doorway. He juts his chin in response to Josh's greeting and then turns a wary eye to each of the other three. Not yet ready to introduce himself, he remains quiet and small.

Heeeeere she comes, Miss Ameerrrriiiicaa! No wait, it's just Flash. And Natalie, who (unsurprisingly enough) looks much better than she did when she went up the stairs, even if she's moving stiffly. That hideous leg wound is gone, healed as if it had never been. Her shoulder is mostly better - the flesh regrown and newly scabbed. The other tooth and claw marks on her ribs, face, and neck are freshly scabbed as well, but otherwise untouched.

Erika looks to Joshua, smiling smuggishly before she offers him a grunt and points to his shoulder.

Joshua looks up tiredly, and over to the two coming down the stairs. He still has that same half-smile on his face: You'd think he hit up Dane's weed patch or something. He looks cleaner, bare chested since his last shirt was a write off (undedicated), and because the collar bone wound is still bleeding. "Oh, heya Holds-the-line. Shit-eater. Yer looking better."

"Alicia share her bong with you?" Flash quips. Then he looks over at Natalie. "Sure you and him don't wanna siddown and talk like rational killing machines?"

In the back of the house, Joey passes through the open doorway for the front part of the house.

Natalie tugs on the neckline of her ruined t-shirt. There is enough left - if barely - to keep her from being pulled over by the cops for indecency. "I have to get back to the city," she repeats stubbornly, her eyes drifting away from the others and back toward the kitchen. She tugs her arm free from the Metis'. "Thank you."

Joey walks in from the kitchen, a soft tune being hummed from her lips. She heard voices in here, but didn't pay attention to whom they belonged to. Once she looks up though, she freezes in her spot, standing still and staring at them. Deer in headlights!

Isaac walks, fingers and toes, to Josh and the couch. He still gives wary glances toward the other three, but seems confident enough to come into the middle of the room. Sitting in front of Josh on the floor, he lifts one hand to touch his chest. "Innocence. Silver Fang. Half moon."

"Oh, no. You where going to stay, so we could talk about how the Roaches Vision quest. Weren't we, Natalie?" He may be mellow, but there's a clear note in his voice: Remember who won. His smile broadens. "That way, I can't claim ignorance anymore."

Erika looks to Flash and gives him a glare. There is a look of disgust that is written on the Fenrir's face. "Filthy city trash," she mutters. She looks to Isaac and rolls her shoulders weakly. Apparently there are too many people in the farmhouse, that Erika slips back to the front door to exit the farmhouse and slams the door behind her.

Erika leaves through the front door. You can hear the screen door swing shut again with a clatter.

Flash lets Natalie go, and spots Joey as he does so. Thus it is that Erika's not-entirely-accurate judgement goes past him un-remarked-upon. He just looks at Joey, his face blank.

Stage fright for the mime? Joey takes a step back and bumps into the wall, a picture shifting free and falling at her feet. "S-sorry, I'll go.

Joshua shrugs. "On sceond thought, Nat. I'm Kinda tired. We can talk later. Ya can go if you want..."

Taslyn comes tromping down the steps, there is not an angry look on her face. But she looks about, "Everything okay?"

"Hey, Joey," says Flash. "Just a sec'?"

Natalie ignores the Ahroun - Are there voices? Hello, Mother, is that you? - and heads for the door. Not limping, but moving stiffly, like she just had several enthusiastic young men beating on her with sticks.

The tension, the slamming doors, and the raised voices all seem to make Isaac wish he'd stayed by the doorway. He crouches a little lower on the floor, and leans into the couch.

Joshua stands up from the couch, careful for Isaac. He's shirtless and bleeding from the collar. "Oh, Heya Tas. Yeah, we're Just all swell. You want something to drink?"

[Nat drives carefully back to the Dominion.]

[End of log]