Maija | …and the loon. [Marcus]

She sets the last tray down, freshly emptied of dishes, and wipes her hands – dishpan, of course – on the towel thrown over her shoulder. She nods slightly to the dishwasher taking her place, and heads toward the back of the kitchen, where her stuff had been stashed with that of the other workers. The towel is tossed into the dirty bin, and she grabs her stuff and heads toward the back door.

She takes a steadying breath, and pulls the ball cap lower over her eyes, the hood up over that. Then. “Was alright. Better’n’some, worse’n’others.”

Why is he here, why does he want to see her, why – especially after last night. All those questions, and more… but she only says the one word.

There is a little fire pit with part of an old barrel and grill over it. He pulls out a bag of charcoal from his alice pack.* “So I got some bison meat, and some fresh potatoes already cut and seasoned. Just gotta put them in some foil with onions. And also some nice beer.” *He heads over to behind a stack of wood crates and pulls out a cooler.* “Figured we could have a nice early supper right here.”

Again.

She watches as he pulls out the cooler, and a brow arches, just slightly. “…got it all planed out, did ya? What if I’da said no?”

“Ain’ figured ya come round ‘gain after last night.”

“Seems we do an awful lotta apologizin t’each other…”

*He sits down on the palettes and looks at the lake.* “I like the quiet out here. Especially in the early morning hours when the sun is coming up. Really beautiful.”

“Bout killed me gettin up so fuckin early this morning. M’a night owl, mostly.”

*He flips the burgers over, and the packets of potatoes and onions.*

“Ya ain’t like anyone else round here. S’like ya some sorta alien, all brand new n’helpful n’bright eyed hopeful n shit. Ain’t mean that in a bad way or nuthin.. s’just… different.”

“Ain’t know what that’d be like. Havin folks what give a shit, I mean.”

She watches him flip the burgers, and packets, her belly giving away that it actually smells good, and she’s hungrier than she thought by growling loudly. When asked about a beer – she gives her standard reply. “Yeah, alright.” Though this time, she actually means it.

She pauses though… “Ya ain’t no older’n’me… how’d ya get beer?”

She twists off the top, and takes a slow swallow before shaking her head. “Cool. I like extra onion.” Ain’t like it’s a date an’ they gotta worry bout their breath or anything, right? Then, a smirk slides across her lips, and she nods. “That beard’s a bit shaggy. Ain’tcha hot under there?”

Seems he came prepared. And of course it’s not a date, it’s just a cookout.*

Not that she thinks he would, but because he – like all of them – could.

He, of course, could only mean one person at this point. The same he she’s been running from all this time. Then…

“Next time? Gonna make a’habit outa feedin me after work?”

“Why ain’tcha jus’ eat at the brotherhood like th’rest of ’em? Not that this ain’t nice’n’all.. jus’ curious.”

She sets the plates aside, the buns ready for the burgers, the rest of it, and folds her hands back into the ‘roo pocket of her hoodie. She leans over them, slightly, the firelight dancing across her face, in dark eyes, before she watches the ground, taking even that little view of her face away – despite the fact he’s already seen her.

[to many have… it’s going to end badly… it always does]

“What happened?”

*He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.* “Some asshole cousin of mine decided to puff up his chest over a kin girl that he wasn’t even pursuing, and gave me an order as to what I could and could not do. Then when I called him on it he attacked.

Arrogant piss ant little shit headed pure breed.” *He says matter of factly.*

“Seems t’me mosta ya’ll do a lotta puffin up and posturing. Sometimes I think ya ain’t garou unless ya having a dick swingin contest…”

Unfortunately you get an asshole like Sam who thinks he’s King Shit of Fuck Mountain just because his great-grandfather kicked a lot of ass for Gaia then he thinks he can do whatever he wants. But in fact it’s the opposite. He has to be even more careful as to his actions or he’ll bring disgrace on his ancestors.”

An amused snort an mimics “Can’t we all jus’ get along? Yeah, I know, ain’t ever gonna happen that way.”

And yes we do fight amongst ourselves. Violence is apart of our culture, an intergral part, but it is the application of that violence which makes it right or wrong.”

*He swallows.* “For instance the Garou who hurt you was wrong because they were obligated to protect you. That is the role Gaia choose for us. Thus they were wrong. If I ever come across those Garou when I rip them in two for their crimes that will be a good application of violence.” *He says in a matter of fact voice.*

“Ain’t no one gotta take care a me but me. Learned that well nuff. Ain’t no one else I kin count on. Ain’t sayin’ I’d stop ya from rippin his ass in two, but, well. Yeah.” A brief tug at the corner of her lips suggests a wry amusement before it fades away.

Just as I help you, you can help others, even normal mortals. That makes my job easier, because it’s not just about killing and fighting. It’s about making the world better.”

“Ain’t nuthin wrong with ya being all idealistic, I guess. I jus’ ain’t that way. I ain’t got nuthin’ t’spare t’help no one but me. Already stayed in one place too long. Ain’t gonna go good for folks what stick close t’me if I ain’t movin on soon.” She sighs, deeply. Just the thought of having to hit the road again is exhausting.

She takes her plate, and the burger he pulls off the grill and takes her time putting the two together before she says anything else. “Sorry. I ain’t know. If I did, I wouldn’ta poked fun like I did.”

She sighs, and then lifts a shoulder in a slight shrug. “I ain’t never even said goodbye to Mama J. I ain’t know if she’s even alive anymore. He almost killt her once t’get at me. He mighta done it when I ran.”

She takes a long swallow of her beer, and then digs into her food like she ain’t eaten in a year – which he knows isn’t true, as they shared a meal the night before.

She tries to slow down though, but well, she’s hungry too. She’s so thin, painfully – waif-ishly thin, it’s a wonder that she eats as much crap as she does. There’s not a spare inch anywhere on her – her breasts small, the hips barely curved. She’s the girl all other girls want to be, and worse, she is that girl without even trying.

She don’t closer her eyes – but she does try to slow down a little, and at least seem to be chewing her food.

She swallows whats in her mouth, and then, with exaggerated slowness, does as he asks.

She just shakes her head, lifting a hand to adjust the hat on her head slightly, then pull the hoodie back into place.

“Yer weird, ya know that?”

“Its like ya stepped outa some 50s sitcom, ya know? an’ I ain’t never thought anyone was still like that. Ain’t fit in with all I knowed n seen.”

She stands though, because she just can’t keep sitting there, with her back to wide open spaces. She turns to check the area, before she just sort of wanders – not exactly pacing, but not standing still either. “They ain’t cuss, no. But drank. Who wouldn’t – s’the only way they could be that nice all th’time.”

What an odd little duck, Marcus is…