Nameless Pack

[Viola Jones]

The rahu rolls her eyes and grunts. Rolling a rock under her shoe, seeming to be paying that more mind then the conversation at hand.

That us until she speaks, "Fuck. This our place. We should search it first. Make sure there's nothing else that needs to die hangin' around." she toes the rock a d kicks it away, "Find a Locus. And maybe. You know, turn into more then just squatters."

Honestly I'm not super comfortable with wolf, this is literally the longest running werewolf I've ever played and uh yeah. Also the lady time I tried to ST a little Hunter slowed and died at a snail's pace, sooooo yeah. But if you guys want me to fumble my way through this I'll give it a go.

[Tristan Hardt]

Tristan remembers. He still remembers the taste of the sludge in the air as his jaws sought the thing's body. It isn't a pleasant memory. He sets his jaw, giving half a nod back to Hector. "Start close to home. Alright."

His stance shifts a little as the Cahalith passes the proverbial ball to Viola's court. And, apparently, he isn't the only one kicking stones. The ghost of a smile threatens to crack the hard line of his mouth. "Keep kicking rocks like that and you'll piss off the spirits." That might just have been a joke. Tristan must be getting soft. "Maybe that's what we need. Stir up the hive and see what comes buzzing out. If it ain't friendly..." Tristan turns his head and spits on the ground. "We get it the hell off our territory."

It could be fun. Give it a go, Saber Sloth . If you get bored or overwhelmed I can step in to relieve you.

[Viola Jones]

Shifting from foot to foot, Viola looks between Hector and Tristran and kicks another rock.

The flat lines of Viola's mouth flick upward in a flash of promise of violence. "Hell yeah we will."

Arms move as a hand moves through the stubble if her hair, scratching an itch on the base of her neck. "I blame a piss poor night of sleep but don't we already know where a Locus is near here." looking at Hector, as he was there when they stepped over and got right in the face if that Magath.

[Hector]

Hector hunched into his clothing.

"Viola is right. We fought off a Magath - a screwed up thing of iron locomotive and predatory fear - by a Locus. It claimed to hold a Locus somewhere in the rail yards. Over there, in one of those sheds. Thats where we fought it. Thats where it appeared. Thats a good a place as any." He gestured with his shaggy head, off in the direction of the sheds.

"We never did go back and look it over. Stank. Even through the Gauntlet. Not the best of spots, or the most cleanly. But we gotta start somewhere."

He cracked a grin.

"And who knows, with your help, maybe we can clean that Locus up, give it something much more wholesome than oil and bloody murder, yeah?" Hector was looking at Tristan now. Cahalith to Elodoth.

His posture shifted. This Iron Master was ready for anything: relaxed chatter or tense action. The gleam in his face suggested he was simply waiting for one of the others to take the bait.

[Tristan Hardt]

Tristan nods at Viola, impressed. "Could have been the same one I stumbled through to join the hunt." Though he honestly couldn't say. Felt like he'd been walking the Shadow in a wolf's skin for longer than that.

Hector seems to cement the idea. "Have to be around there. Just have to narrow down where."

Whatever that crazy-eyed Cahalith expects of Tristan, he might be in for a disappointment. Still, no sense in raining on his parade. Tristan would do what he could to fix the place. It just might take a while. The Elodoth finally nods. "Sounds right. Feel like it's our responsibility to try."

[Viola Jones]

Viola isn't leaning against anything, so she can't shove herself off of anything but the stance she takes makes observers think she'd done it anyway.

A snort. "Yeah. 'Cause we're big cuddly puppies made for wholesome." eye roll.

Steps crunch the gravel, glass and other debris.

"Fuckin' right it stank. Clogged up my nose. Made it fuckin' impossible to-fuck. You we're there. I don't haveta go into it again." head shake, hands in pockets, an awkward slant to her lips.

Step continue to crunch as the rahu takes point on their trek to the shack, small talk, obviously not something she was good at on her list of priorities.

[Hector]

Hector blinks.

"What? We're going now? Well. OK. Whatever."

He lags a little, keeping pace more with Tristan than the hot-headed Rahu.

[Viola Jones]

The crunch underfoot stops as abruptly as it started.

"You don't want to go right now?" Viola swerves around to pin the ripe Cahalith with her dead flat eyes. "The fuck did ya wanna do if not head over there now?"

[Hector]

Hector shrugs in response. His face, all lines, moulds into confusion.

"Well I thought we were gathering for chat. Catch up. Man-speak. You know? But whatever. You say we're going to check out the shed for that Locus, you the boss. Rahu and all. I just record the exploits for posterity."

He didn't back down though. This Cahalith had his share of Glory so he didn't feel the need, despite the sure temptation when facing Viola's toned physique and brutally glazed glare.

"You have a problem with just talking?" There was an edge to his voice, enough to show that he was no shrinking violet.

He hoped.

[Tristan Hardt]

As much as Hector hits it on the nose - they'd come here for words - actions would do just as well. But the 'do' or 'don't' of checking out the Magath's final resting place isn't the most important thing happening right now. Not even close. There's an elephant in the room, and it's making itself known. Not the first time it's happened, either. But this time the challenge isn't laid at Tristan's feet. So all he can do is watch. Watch and gauge the other two for when the unspoken question needs to be answered.