First night in a new home

"And you didn't see who it was," Snow states, knowing full well that to be the case. She had immediately followed Bodycount out into the dawn when he had woken her and was standing barefoot on the barren , rocky ground, having not bothered to throw her boots back on. She had listened intently as he related his dream, and got caught up in the possibility he had described in the land. She liked the sound of the grass and even imagined the old building that sat in the center of the quarry lined with wild flowers.

Her optimism turned to concern when he described the field of bodies planted just beneath the surface, and how the lush grass had sprouted and grown full and healthy on the nutrients they released into the earth. And when he told her of the bodies returning to flesh, and the pack being among the dead, a deep frown darkened her expression.

"A bad omen to be sure. It's hard to interpret it any other way, even when viewed in the best possible light. At first I was hopeful, and even a vision of our flesh providing the nourishment that makes improvement of the land possible isn't necessarily bad. It could have meant that our toils will make our territory healthy once again. But it strikes me that the tenor of the dream was not hopeful, and so I doubt that is the correct reading."

"I am particularly concerned by the laughing thing that felled you from behind. It speaks to a hidden enemy who waits to strike, or perhaps even a betrayal by someone we know or will know but would not guess to be an enemy. It makes me question our decision to come to this city when you add it on top of the sickness that is the Shadow of this city, the Pure just across the river, and the strange behavior of the neighbors."

Snow frowns even more deeply, and Bodycount can see that she regrets having verbalized that final comment. She walks forward, looking out across the quarry towards the city. Then she sighs and squats down, picking absentmindedly at the earth.

"Is that how you see it?" she asks quietly. "What do you think?" She doesn't look at Bodycount when she asks.

Keys woke abruptly at as Johnny called out in his dream. Looking around her dorm, her nose twitches as she picks up the freshly mingled scent trail of Bodycount and Snow leaving the room. It wasn't the first time that the cahalith had sought out the spirit master to discuss his dreams. Keys would have found it odd if the dreamer hadn't dreamt something after the events of last night. Knowing her alpha is safe enough with a fellow packmate, she pads quietly onto the steel walkway and heads for the guys' room.

The sounds of the sleeping dogs in their makeshift kennel on the first floor drift up to her perked ears along with the sounds of Breaker working out in the shop area. Normal enough, and comforting in the way that the pack is slowly starting to settle in.

Slipping quietly into the guys' dorm, she lets her nose lead her to Wukong's restless form. He was still new enough to the pack that his scent hadn't quiet melded with the rest yet, but he was one of the Sangrientos nonetheless. That he slept as a wolf tonight, as she did, she found interesting; another newly revealed aspect of his personality that she tucks away in her storehouse of knowledge of her packmates. She makes quiet reassuring sounds, letting her scent and presence silently seep into his dreaming urhan awareness without waking him, then moves on to where Johnny lays caught up in his own nightmare. Her jaw drops into a lupine smile when she sees him curled lovingly around his rifle. Some tings, dey never change.

Continuing to make little soothing noises, Keys noses over up against her fellow irraka, curling up against his back and lending her warmth and support through the anxiety of his dream.

Bodycount frowns too, the uncharacteristic crack in Snow's facade making him feel both concerned and strangely privileged at the same time. He squats down next to her and places his arm around her back, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"We didn't win this place," he muses. "We've taken it as our home, but we didn't pay for it. Two packs of heroes did, with their blood and their lives. I don't know much about them yet, but I do know that they were the kind of Uratha who die for a reason. This place must be important. They wouldn't have died here, otherwise.

"I don't feel at ease here yet, not any more than any of us do. It's an...alien place. And the dream was...scary. Especially the fact that we were buried in a heap together with strangers without so much as a spray-painted sentence on the wall to mark our passing. I really don't like the idea of being forgotten. But what would be even worse is to be remembered as 'the pack who ran'.

"That's not the Los Sangrientos way. It wasn't our way when the Boss was around, and it's not our way now that you're in charge. These last weeks, the whole world has been trying to intimidate us. The Boss dying, the state of our new home, this dream - it all seems almost engineered to frighten us, to make us stand down, bare our throats, even run. But that's not who we are.

"We're gonna stare the world in the eye and intimidate it right back, until it rolls over and submits. We're going to tame and master this new home, remember and honor those who died to make it ours, and do our damndest to make sure that those who come after us remember us with the same reverence. We'll face the future together as a pack, and when the day comes, we'll fall together, as a pack. That's one thing even that dream couldn't dispute. That, all of it, is the Los Sangrientos way."

Bodycount falls silent for a moment before giving Snow's shoulder another squeeze.

"I think you did the right thing leading us here. Two packs of heroes died here - now it's up to us to give their deaths meaning. Even if the dream does come true in the most literal sense, and we are murdered and forgotten, that doesn't change the fact that we died doing the right thing. That's what matters most, in the end. I'd be proud to share even an unmarked grave with you."

Snow smiles and once goes so far as to chuckle in appreciation of Bodycount's inspirational words. She leans into him and feels the strength inside him, letting it flow into her and inspire her like the things he had said. She knew she should be sharing her strength with him, not the other way around. But the fact that he could remain so sure, and his conviction could remain so strong, in light of the dream and everything else was amazing.

"When we were younger and I first met you," she began, recalling a time that was years ago now, "I thought you were a fool. You were the first to fight, the first to charge an enemy you knew nothing about, the first to seek a challenge you had no reason to face. You sought glory above all other things, and no matter the consequences. At least, that's how it seemed to me."

"I can laugh at how ridiculous I was when I was younger, but at the time I was shocked then when Juan-Vidal told me you were the heart of his pack," she smiled and pressed into him further. "Did you know he used to call you that?"

"He said that of all of us, you were the most reliable, the most trustworthy, the most honorable, and the very core of Los Sangrientos. Although I came to appreciate you over the years and what you brought to our pack, I don't think I truly understood what he meant until recently, when I took on his role."

"You are the heart of Los Sangrientos. You've proven it again just now. And besides that you're absolutely right."

Snow slips out from under his arm and stands, turning to pull him up with her. "Dawn is here and we've a lot of work to do. Let's go wake the others and get started."

Bodycount smiles self-consciously - but also a bit defiantly proudly - of Snow's description of how he'd appeared to her when they'd first met. The observations were accurate enough, at least from the point of view of many people who'd call themselves sensible. The kind of people who'd never trade the rest of their lives for a five-minutes-long, adrenaline-filled, headlong charge into the pages of history.

When she recounts the words of the Boss, though, his smile fades, and the big man actually blushes. He doesn't have the presence of mind to cover up the moisture suddenly forming in his eyes. Not managing to say a word in return, he squeezes her shoulder harder instead, his heart suddenly hammering fast and loud and painful and proud in his chest.

He still doesn't answer as she slides out from under his arm and announces that it's time to wake the others. But as she reaches her hand down towards him he takes it and squeezes it firmly, letting his much smaller alpha have the satisfaction of pulling him to his feet.

She's earned it.

Spoiler

Let's lock this thread and start a new one. There's nothing left to do here.