The Fires of Summer (first draft)

When they ride past the towers, the town opens up before them. The street is wide enough for two horse-drawn carriages to pass by whilst still leaving a little room for people on foot, and everyone makes way for them as they go, looking up to observe the newcomers. To a stranger Dawn and Smock might look like father and daughter, and he figures that would be the best narrative to offer. Someone might feel bad for a poor single father travelling with his bereaved daughter, and he's not at all opposed to lying if it means he can get somewhere safe and warm for Dawn to rest.

All around the buildings are made of the dark local wood and stone, and all around there are trees and bushes, and people with flowers growing under their windows. The houses are tall and everything is packed in close but not too close. Archways sit over some paths between smaller houses, offering the town great diversity in the height of its structures, with something new and pretty everywhere you look.

After a while of riding through the streets, Smock spots a signpost that has 'livery stable' on it, and he rides down the path. He should be able to cover the cost fine, as he hasn't gotten through too much of his money - by the looks of it, it might last him a short while, assuming he doesn't have to pay for accommodation.

When he finds his way to the front of the stable, a slim human approaches him and looks at the two horses, then the carriage. He's got the accent of the commonfolk. "Greetings my good fellow, have you come for the stable?"

"I have," Smock says. "I'm not too certain of how long I'll be here, will you take daily payment?"

"We will and do, yes," he responds. "A drachma per day will do it. That's one and a half obols for each horse, 'n three for the cart."

"Sounds like a fair price to me," Smock nods, finding the pouch of money. He hands over a drachma, as agreed, and gets off the cart. Dawn gets off too and they watch as the man and another, who must also be a stablemaster, drive the horses into the stable and out of sight.

Someone standing around, as there is a decent amount of people at the stable, comes over. It doesn't look like he works here. He's a large man, built equal in fat and muscle, standing perhaps two inches taller than Smock and far wider, with quite a friendly demeanour about him. He's got a thick, neatly-trimmed brown-ginger beard, and his hair, balding quite a bit, is in a grown-out buzzcut. Smock can't help but be reminded of a bear, equal in raw grizzly strength but otherwise appearing like a big stuffed toy. When he speaks he's got a deep, gruff voice. "Say, I don't think I've seen ya around here. Travellin' through Moosewater?"

"We're gonna stay for a while, just 'til we're back on our feet," Smock says, looking at Dawn, who stands close to him, looking up at the stranger curiously. "It's been a... rough past few days."

"Well somethin' you'll find out real soon is that Moosewater loves visitors," he laughs heartily, extending one of his large hands to Smock, meeting his eyes with round brown ones, pupils large. "Name's Garrett Holtzman, pleasure to meet ya."

"Smock," he smiles, taking the man's warm hand. Garrett clasps it as they shake, then he reaches to Dawn.

"I'm Dawn Alma," the girl returns kindly, her whole arm moving from the (likely unintentional) strength of the other's grasp.

"Nice to meet you both! That over there is Bo," he turns and gestures to a man who's talking to one of the stablemasters. The man has his back to them, but he's similarly built to Garrett, perhaps a little smaller. "We're the biggest local farmers - there's a little competition, but we dwarf 'em by far."

"Wow, you have a farm right here in town?" Dawn asks with wonder, seeming to lose her slight initial shyness.

"Well, not in town. The farm's just a couple minutes walk out, near a river that comes from the bay, 'n we have a store here," Garrett explains, folding his hairy arms. He's wearing a plaid red shirt and overalls, the sleeves rolled up.

"We'll have to keep you in mind if we need anything," Smock says warmly. He nudges Dawn with an elbow. "This one's got a taste for cheese."

"We've got cheese a'plenty," the man laughs.

Bo joins them promptly, having finished his conversation, and immediately extends a hand to Smock as the other had done. His handshakes are a lot more casual than the other's, though still very friendly. "I see Garrett's makin' some friends. I'm Bo, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I was just talkin' to Smock and Dawn here 'n they say they're stoppin' at Moosewater for a while. Thought I'd let 'em know about our business," Garrett offers the other a fond smile, looking at him with warmth.

Bo, where Garrett's face is round, has more carved features, and whilst being a similar albeit slightly smaller build to him has a slight bit of definition, as though someone took a chisel to him where one would not be expected. He's got narrow blue eyes that are so light they appear almost white, and he's lost enough hair that he's bald to the top of his temples. From there down he's got burlywood hair that darkens and lightens in areas. His beard is a messier and wavier than Garrett's, dark at the sides and light in the middle. He speaks with a smoother voice than his companion, but just as deep. "You advertising to newcomers is more intimidating than you realise."

"They love me!" Garrett protests with a laugh, brushing his arm against Bo's.

"Sure they do," the man responds playfully before turning his attention back to Smock and Dawn. "Where are you staying? Please don't tell me it's Valett's. I hate the guy."

As curious as he is to know about what exactly Valett did, Smock sees his opportunity. "Well... nowhere, really. We're new to town and I don't know where the nearest inn or tavern even is."

Garrett and Bo share a look for a few moments, something that he can't quite figure out, before turning back to the two. The bigger man smiles. "Well, we've got space at the farm, if you're willin' to lend a hand."

Dawn buzzes with excitement. "Really? You'd let us stay with you?"

"I don't see why not," Bo shrugs, "we could do with some extra help around the farm now summer's here."

"That's really generous of you, thank you so much," Smock beams. He's more than thankful to get the chance to stay with people that seem friendly. Having people in the town that they know will be useful, as well as comforting.

"It's not a problem, really," Garrett chuckles. "Is there anything we can help you out with?"

"Actually, we have some supplies in the cart," Smock remembers, "if you wouldn't mind helping us bring them back to your place."

"Sure thing," Garrett agrees, and together the four make their way inside of the stable. It's got at least two floors, with all the carts on the bottom, and Smock locates theirs quickly. They get out all the supplies, and with their superior strength Bo and Garrett easily haul most of it, leaving Smock and Dawn with barely anything to carry.

They head out on their way, and after brief consideration Bo leads them out to the bay. It's huge, sprawling for miles, and in the distance he can see the other side of it, far away. Ships are coming in and out, and far to the left the bay has a small passageway out to the open ocean. To the right the land curves into a circle and at its head is the grand city of Wolf's Rest, where Lord Canis resides.

Down at the docks there are a few ships, mostly just the regular fishing boats and a couple offering ferrying services across the bay, and to either side of the beach the sand is replaced with grass and then forest.

As they're walking along the street above the beach, Smock looks over the wall to see a moose wading into the water. It looks strange striding in so normally, and he fails to quite comprehend it. What could possibly draw a land creature, no less a herbivore, to such deep water? How would a moose even stay afloat?

The creature moves forth until it is swimming, then it disappears under the water, having taken a dive. Smock figures it must be after underwater plants to eat, unable to rationalise anything else.

As if the situation couldn't be more mind-boggling, suddenly the moose breaches the surface again some short while out, swimming back towards the surface. Behind it he sees what must be a black fin, and immediately he understands.

From the water comes a massive black fish. It has white markings and even from where he stands Smock can make out its almost human eyes. It opens its mouth, full of sharp teeth, and just like that the moose is gone, dragged beneath the surface, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Smock turns away then, knowing what always happens next. Orcas earn their common name of 'killer whale' with ease.

Back when he sailed the seas, he would have the occasional run in with them. He'd often joke with Ellamia or his crew about throwing one of them over to satisfy the whales, going into extensive debates over who would make the best fish food. It was very rare that someone would actually end up chosen, unless they'd been unfortunate enough to have done something that bothered the crew that day. Smock always loved to see them all happy and full of banter.

With the name of the town now evident from the demonstration, which Smock realises he's very lucky to have witnessed with how rare it must be, he finds himself staring out at Wolf's Reach. He wonders if maybe Axel is there, and if not then he knows someone that knows him must be. Swiftly he decides that, if this town reaps no reward, he's going to try there next. By that time word might have reached Canis' guard of his antics, so he'll have to work out a small disguise, which is not too much of an issue. A merchant, maybe, or a farmer, or perhaps even a beggar if he must, though he'd really hate to put Dawn in that kind of situation.

Speaking of Dawn, she's already asking plenty of questions to Garrett and Bo, all about the animals and crops and harvest. They seem more than happy to answer, rambling on and on about their work and, quite pleasantly, how much they like it. Most people would groan at the idea of hearing about the life of a farmer, but Dawn is filled with so much wonder from her years of confinement. It inspires an almost childlike feeling in Smock, to imagine what it's like to experience the world and the things in it for the first time.

The houses of the town grow further and further apart until the road fizzles out into light forest and a path. It's undoubtedly still town territory, with similar bushes and archways built all around, just not so populated. They pass by a single house, then a guard post, and then finally there is a turn onto a pathway surrounded by wood fences. A sign sits on the end of one, pointing down the path saying "Bo & Co", clearly chosen by the two to be funny, which admittedly Smock thinks it is.

Behind the fences are rows of apple trees, but the land opens into a clearing and a large farmhouse. It's got two floors and covers a lot of ground, and out to either side of it Smock can see fences, livestock to one side and crops to the other. The whole place looks homely. At the front of the house is a sheltered patio that spans around most of the front and a little of the side, with some chairs and a table out, recently-used judging by an empty bottle that has been seemingly forgotten about until Bo sees it and snags it on their way in. Smock decides a drink with them once Dawn has gone to bed wouldn't hurt, if they'd be willing.

As soon as they get inside, they all put down what they've been carrying and Bo goes to crack open their windows, with it being even warmer indoors than it is outside. Everything is wooden but clearly, despite its age, taken care of. Every surface is clean and there is not even a stray plate, not even a chip in any paint, or a crack in any furniture. There are plants all around and paintings on the walls, giving the entryway a homely feel even with its spaciousness.

Suddenly the sound of two sets of paws sprinting towards them catches Smock off guard, and two beautiful border collies come rushing towards Bo and Garrett, jumping into their arms. One is a pretty brown and the other a blue merle, and they lick at their owners' faces in excitement.

"This-" Garrett starts, laughing at the warm welcome from the dogs, "is Beau," he pets the brown dog, "and this," the merle, "is Willow."

"Can I pet them?" Dawn asks with excitement.

"Go ahead," Bo smiles, gently pushing Willow back to the ground, where she promptly decides to sniff Smock and Dawn, sussing them out.

Dawn pets her head with a smile, her eyes wide. He wonders if she's ever petted a dog before, or any animal other than the horses. By the excitement and fascination in her expression, he guesses not.

Smock can't help but reach down to pet her too. She's extremely soft, and the texture itches a part of his brain he can't quite place.

"We better get dinner goin' - did you get in the eggs this mornin', Bo?" Garrett asks, still cradling Beau in his arms like she's a baby.

"Yup," Bo replies, looking at the three of them. "Garrett is gonna come cook with me. We usually eat in the livin' room, if you wanna take a seat. We'll grab your stuff."

He gestures to an open doorway, and through it is an extremely cozy-looking living room, with couches and beanbags and beautiful carpets. Smock nods and smiles. "Thank you so much, it really means a lot."

"Not a problem Smock," Garrett nods to him, letting down Beau, and with that they part to go to their respective rooms.

The dogs follow them into the living room and snuggle up to Dawn, who happily takes a spot on a beanbag, seemingly amused by the strange nature of the object. Smock opts for one of the single armchairs, the one closest to her, immensely thankful for the respite after such a long day of travelling. It feels strange to think just the night before they'd been crying beside the lake as the pyramid burned, miles away from here, not knowing that these two farmers even existed.

"They're really nice," Dawn says, now being used as a pillow for the two animals, seeming blissful. "I've never been in a house like this before. I've never met a farmer."

"Well are you enjoying it all?" Smock asks, taking off his shoes and bringing up his knees to his chest, getting comfortable. He fidgets with the cloth on his wrists idly.

"Yeah," she replies brightly. "I can't wait to explore the town more. Can we go out tomorrow?"

"Of course. I've got to get you those books, haven't I?" he chuckles, finding his money and sifting through it. Books shouldn't be an issue, but he is running quite low on funds now, and if he intends to travel to find Axel he'll need as much of it as possible.

"I'm really excited! Mama made sure I could read and write, but I never got to do it much, and never around the others," she explains like it's normal. "Hopefully I'll still be good at it."

"Reading and writing isn't really something you forget. 'N hey, if you need any help, I'm here," Smock tells her. Writing especially is his thing - if anyone can help her with that, it's him.

The subject jolts his memory and he reaches into his coat, putting away the money and instead retrieving his new sketchbook. With it he finds Dawn's new comb.

"Catch," he says to her before carefully aiming and tossing the comb into her hand.

"Oh, my mama would be thanking you so much right now... She wouldn't rest until I took care of my hair," Dawn laughs, moving her hands from the dogs to brush her curls.

Smock can't help but feel a pang of sorrow. Darla should be here right now. Still, he doesn't want to sour the mood, and distracts himself by writing 'this sketchbook belongs to Haley Smit' on the front page and beginning to doodle. "My older sibling Gabriel had thick curls and my big sister and brother Jophiel and Raphael had [insert]. Sometimes we'd talk about things whilst doing each others hair - they'd go nuts if they knew I let you go without a comb."

"What are they like?" Dawn asks, pulling the comb carefully through her hair. Despite the journey, her hair isn't too tangled.

"Gabriel is ridden with anxiety, but is one of the greatest tricksters I've ever known," he answers with a smile, with no end to the pranks that he can recall, "and Jophiel... She's just as formidable as she is gorgeous. I think, somehow, one day she'll end up as some sort of Princess or Queen."

"Your family is really interesting," she hums thoughtfully. "Sometimes I wondered what it'd be like to have siblings. I thought it'd be a little bit like how it was with Klaus, but different."

"It has its ups and downs, especially when there's six of them," Smock chuckles.

"Six? You only told me about three!" she exclaims. Smock is amused that her main concern is what he told her rather than the number.

"Well, technically seven, but he's my oldest brother and I've never met him," he clarifies, thinking fondly of his siblings. He misses their company, or... most of their company.

"I wanna hear about them," Dawn says, bright-eyed.

"My oldest sibling, the one I don't know, is called Lucifer. Nobody knows what he's the Archangel of, and nobody's seen him since he fell, way back before I was even made," Smock begins. "Next it goes Michael, the warrior Archangel. I told you about him. Then Gabriel, who is the messenger Archangel - I mentioned them too. There's my brother Raphael, the Archangel of healing, and he's the kindest of everyone. Then Jophiel, the Archangel of beauty."

"There's an Archangel of beauty? What does she do?" Dawn tilts her head.

"She helps people with lots of things - usually people who are insecure or struggling with self-love. But she also helps with creativity and wisdom and anything that creates beauty, physical and mental," he explains, though it feels a little convoluted when he says it. Explaining what Jophiel does has always been difficult; she works on many levels and many different things.

"She must be really busy," she comments lightly.

"We all were," Smock chuckles. Some certainly were more than others, but Jophiel did have a handful. "Next is Ariel, the Archangel of nature, although if she had it her way I think she'd be the Archangel of the hunt, 'cos that's her favourite thing to do. And then the youngest of my siblings apart from me is Chamuel. Some say he's the Archangel of pure love and others say peaceful relationships but he does everything love-related really: platonic love, romantic love, familial love, types of love that don't even have a name... all of it."

"That's so strange, that there's all of you up there doing Archangel things and most people don't even think about it," Dawn sounds bewildered, looking up at the ceiling as though thinking very hard. "I guess I always knew that angels existed because of all the talk of Apollyon but I've never seen or met one..."

"Not living up to your expectations?" he asks with a laugh. Admittedly, he's not the best Archangel to meet for the angel effect - even Apollyon does better than him on that level. Michael would probably be everyone's perfect vision of an Archangel: tall, long white hair, carved features - otherworldly in every manner.

"No, but I think that's better!" she returns with an honesty about her. "You're just like any other person, I think I'd be scared by the others..."

"That's a fair point. I've been down here for so long, guess it was inevitable I ended up more like a human than an angel," Smock's smile is melancholy. Of course, he wouldn't trade any of the experiences he's had on Aldelis for anything, but his fall was cruel and he hasn't seen his siblings ever since. He wonders what they're doing and how the work is, and whether they ever think of him. He wonders what it's like for his angels under the new God's control, and hopes that not all of them met the same fate as Apollyon.

"You still look a bit like an angel, I think," she says, and whilst it is a compliment he can hear the authenticity.

Smock has been told that sort of thing before. His eyes are black like a night sky, and if not for his beard his appearance would be completely androgynous, with neutral features and a slim figure. He's never minded it all that much - in fact, it's been a blessing to him. Some days he finds himself more of a woman than a man, though he has his lean. Ellamia was always so accepting of him, but he feels now more pressured to conform to one side or the other. Everywhere outside of Riloris is not so... kind to those that bend the strict social expectancies of sexuality and especially gender, much unlike the pirates he surrounds himself with.

In fact, the pirates would welcome such a thing. Pirate Island is a safe haven for outcasts and those deemed too 'different', even down to the way they walk or talk. He misses feeling so at home in their presence. Even the most ill-adjusted angel would.

"Where are we going after all of this?" Dawn asks all of a sudden. He doesn't understand why, but there's a sense of melancholy in her voice.

"We'll stay for as long as possible," he replies. With a deep breath he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the water-damaged wanted poster. It's about time I'm honest with her. "But... I'm trying to find someone. He was a part of my crew before I lost my Ellamia and he's the only one that's... that might be alive, that might know what happened to her. I never planned to bring anyone with me, but I can't put you in danger and leave you alone, so... you'll have to come with me. Hopefully he won't be too far away."

"He'll probably think I'm your daughter or something," she laughs a laugh bright enough to cheer him up just a little.

"You're damn right about that. Smartest dumbass I've ever known," Smock smiles fondly as he looks at the blurry poster. The accuracy of his face is a clear sign of just how many people have been close enough to tell, no doubt getting into all sorts of fights with him. Axel's catlike eyes seem to glimmer even through the wrecked paper, somehow entrancing even in absence of colour. He sees them vividly in his memory under the darkness of night aboard the ship, starlight shining down on them as they drink and talk as good friends do, with Axel's arm around his shoulders, their sides pressed together. To an outsider the closeness would seem intimate, but to a pirate it's nothing more than a normal interaction between friends.

They'd talk like that for hours, alone out on deck, the waves a backdrop to whatever subject held their attention. It sounded so gentle on nights like those, nothing like the vicious waters that had claimed his wife. Somehow the lack of light seemed to pronounce all the dark parts of Axel's skin, like his freckles and his scar. The latter didn't take from his appearance, and the former made him look like a young and naïve prince, like he was the most important person on that ship, royalty they were escorting for the highest price.

"You talk nicely about him. What's he like? I should probably know if I'm gonna be meeting him soon," Dawn asks, ever-curious, an incredible listener. Her thirst for knowledge is extremely apparent.

"Axel..." he stares at the poster. "He's weird," there's no end to the tales he can tell of times when he's caught Axel staring at people, or thinking about the strangest things ("Haley, do you think whales have thoughts? What do you think they think about? 'Wow, the ocean is extra blue today' or something?"), or staring into space in his bed for what must be hours at a time. "But he's a good man who's been through Hell, and we've got each other's backs."

He can recall numerous times when they've fought together and swooped in to defend each other. Axel's even taken swords to his own body for him. The first time it happened, Smock was certain he was going to die there in his arms from the injury, bleeding out and tense with agony.

During a vicious fight with the captain of a brilliant galleon he'd found himself with a sword to his throat, pinned to the ground. Like lightning Axel had been there, his strong arms grappling with the opponent, trying to disarm him, but in exhaustion from the strenuous fight he'd been just slightly lacking, doing far better in short bursts. He'd been overwhelmed and in the time it took for the captain to tear open a wound in his chest Smock had regained himself and shredded the man's legs until he laid screaming on the ground in his own blood, begging, crying, pleading for it to be over, for his dead mother to carry him away.

Smock put him out of his misery.

Axel is on the ground just a few feet away, having dropped with the wound and then dragged himself far enough that the other corpse wasn't atop him. He's making no effort to stop the bleeding of his chest and his clothes are saturated in his blood and the blood of his numerous victims. Smock rushes to his side and cradles his upper body, holding him close, taking the sash around the injured man's waist and pressing it to the wound. Axel hisses in pain, his breaths rasping between coughs that send crimson liquid splattering onto his clothes and his face, dripping from his lower lip.

"God fuckin' dammit Axel," Smock's voice shakes as he clutches the other tight. "What the fuck was that?"

"Me saving your ass," the other laughs, but the sound quickly becomes a sputtering as his throat expels more blood. The injury is large, a wound carved into him luckily not near his heart but certainly in his lungs.

"I was fine, I'm Captain goddamn Undying I was fucking fine," he trembles as tears fall from his face.

"Wouldn't hurt you to-" he coughs, an arm clutching Smock's tight, "have a bit more faith in me, Haley."

Just like that Axel's eye closes, and Smock buries his head in the other's clothes, but he can still feel the shaky rise and fall of the man's chest. He lifts his head and presses a hand to Axel's chest, next to the wound, to feel his heart still beating and his lungs still expanding, and slowly but surely the rasping in his throat begins to die down.

Ellamia and the crew were quick to his aid then, as the opponents had surrendered once realising their captain was dead, and once seeing Axel wasn't dead he was rushed back to their ship. He'd made a miraculous recovery and within a mere few days it was as if the injury had never happened. Smock rolled the encounter around in his mind for the entire time, wondering how the Hell he'd managed to survive a tear to his lungs and no doubt damage to his ribs, and all the bleeding too.

"That's it? Weird and good?" Dawn asks, pushing the dogs gently to the side and sitting up. Smock hands her the ruined poster and she looks at it with intrigue. "That's a lot of crimes."

"Before he got mixed up with me 'n my bunch he was running a crime organisation. Probably went back to that when he got on land again, but I promise he's not a bad guy. Just... got the short end of the stick when it comes to the life lottery," Smock assures her. Being told the man you're going to meet is a criminal definitely isn't comforting.

"Well... I trust you, and if he's your friend I'm sure he's not all that bad," she hums thoughtfully. "What happened to his face?"

"He never told anyone much about his scar, or his past at all, not even me," Smock answers. The only thing he really knew about Axel was what happened right before they found him out at sea: his wife and her crew had been killed, and his children had been taken. Everything else, like his involvement with crime, was more vague. He was raised on the streets and ran a crime organisation, that was it.

Dawn frowns. "Must have been really bad, then."

"Must have," he echoes, taking back the poster from her and putting it away in his pocket.

Shortly afterwards they hear a shout from the other room, Bo announcing that dinner is ready and to come join them at the table. Together Smock and Dawn go, entering the large kitchen and looking around.

It's very different to the pyramid's kitchen; it's large and spacious, with lots of room to cook. There are herbs hanging beside the cabinets at the far wall, where a door sits. From the look of the open window next to it, it leads into a garden full of tall plants, no doubt more ingredients for their cooking. Opposite the stove and the cabinets and surfaces, there is a table, set with a cloth, where there are four plates of food laid out, though there's room for six. Near the table there are two dog bowls full of what looks to be a homemade fresh meal.

Dinner is a gorgeous cut of steak accompanied by some soft, white cheese and a few purple grapes. In its own bowl sits some cauliflower cheese with a spoon. Four cups of fresh-pressed orange juice are placed with them.

The dogs tuck in to their meal as everyone sits down to eat. Bo and Garret sit together on the side with their backs to the kitchen, and Smock and Dawn take the ones opposite, where they have a full view of the whole room.

"Do either of you say prayers before dinner?" Garrett asks.

"I don't. Dawn?" Smock turns to her.

"Nope," she returns with a smile.

"Alright. Then let's tuck in," Garrett says warmly before digging into his meal.

Smock is much hungrier than he thought. The whole dinner is mouthwatering and he has to remind himself to slow down and be polite, though it's a struggle when the food is so good. Dawn eats like she hasn't eaten in days, though he supposes their breakfast, while filling, hadn't been the most nutritionally balanced, nor so well-seasoned as this.

When they finish, he swears he could eat it all over again. He looks to the two men who are patting down their beards with napkins. Smock notices one laid out for him too, and takes it, doing the same as he speaks, "That was amazing, thank you so much."

"It's our pleasure. We love cookin' for guests," Bo smiles brightly, clearly extra pleased by the compliment. The two must have worked hard on the food.

"Haven't had anyone over for ages," Garrett comments as he stands and collects the plates, cooing at the happy dogs on the way to the other side of the room.

"Really? You guys are so nice, I would've thought you had lots of visitors," Dawn watches him go, then turns to Bo as he collects the cups.

"Well... most people get turned away when they find out we're-" Bo pauses, his face scrunching as he thinks of the best way to phrase it. "Me 'n Garrett are married. We're pretty open with it, but some people find it disgustin'."

"Their loss. People like that ain't worth the effort," Smock sighs, "or the ingredients."

"Or the dogs," Dawn adds with a smile.

"Damn right," Garrett laughs from across the room. There's a quiet exchange between him and Bo about the washing up, then the two share a small kiss. "Y'can go back to the livin' room if you like, we'll be done before you know it."

"Alright, come on Dawn," Smock pats her shoulder before getting up and returning to the living room, where he happily takes up the same seat he'd been sitting in, getting comfortable. Dawn does the same.

True to their word, the farmers return shortly afterwards. Bo grabs a book and then they go to sit together on the couch with their dogs. The two look perfectly happy, and Smock feels it too, the warm meal and safe environment putting him at ease.

"So, where are you both from?" Garrett asks as Bo leans against him and opens his book.

"I'm from God's Lake which is just a while away from here," Dawn smiles.

"I can't say I've heard of it. That's quite the name for a lake, any particular reason?" he enquires.

She looks down at her feet and curls up on her chair. "The people there believed in Gods and angels, and there used to be a church on the hill."

Garrett senses the hint of distress in her demeanour. "That's real interesting - it's always good to learn more 'bout this region. Smock?"

"I'm from the coast of Riloris," he answers with a smile. "Grew up with the sailors."

"Thought so, you've got the accent," Garrett chuckles, and for just a moment a hint of anxiety strikes Smock that he's been figured out for being a pirate. "We have lots of whalers and fishermen come 'round here and they speak like it too."

"Yeah, you can always tell a sailor by their tongue," Smock returns with relief. "My dads were a prime example of it, especially the profanities."

"Gods, you'll never hear any man swear near as much," he laughs. "Bo 'n I were born 'n raised right here in Moosewater. My ma 'n pa ran this farm before us, made it real rich. When we got married, they took all their savin' money and took off for Athorea. They write sometimes, sayin' the beaches are all pretty 'n about the local news. Not much drama 'round there by the sounds of it."

"Yeah, I heard Athorea is pretty peaceful, even with all the scars from the war," Smock hasn't spent any time in Athorea since falling, but under the rule of Princess Clari Sanguis and her conservation laws the land has flourished. It's always been famous for the lush landscapes and abundance of natural resources, as well as its vast capacity for farmland, even in the harsh Aldelian winter, earning its nickname of the 'Bountiful Isles'. During the war it was frequently the grounds of battles, being in the very middle of Aldelis, but the land has healed greatly since, even with remnants of the conflict living on.

"Sure sounds it. Maybe we'll retire there too when we adopt some kids 'n get too old to work," Garrett's voice is the slightest bit airy as he speaks, like he's talking about a nice dream.

"Doesn't sound too bad of a plan," Smock says warmly. He's never thought much about having kids himself. Ellamia had never really brought it up and it had never crossed his mind. He's not sure if he even can have children - an Archangel's body is not a viable host nor giver of mortal life, only of other angels or higher beings. "So you guys are planning on settling down and having kids?"

"Yeah, we've been thinkin' on it for a long time 'n we've been makin' sure we're in the right place mentally 'n financially to have kids. It's been a long ride but we're finally ready," Garrett squeezes Bo's hand, and the other looks to him with a gentle smile before returning to his book.

"That's great - a kid to call yer own and an extra pair of hands around the farm," Smock jokes, earning a laugh from the others.

"What can I say? We're always lookin' for new helpers," he returns with humour. "Speakin' of, we'll get you both out there tomorrow. We've also got some folk comin' in to work for us while we mind the shop, so you can expect some company."

"I look forward to helping out," Smock smiles to them. He's been to farms in the past but never worked on one - most of his time had been spent petting the cows.

"Me too," Dawn adds, "I really wanna see the chickens."

"Lucky for you I had that in mind. The chickens are always fun to work with," Garrett speaks with a fondness in his voice.

"I can't wait," Dawn beams.

Soon the night begins to fall and the room is bathed in darkness, and Garrett gets up to show Dawn and Smock to their rooms, leaving Bo to read. A graceful wood staircase leads upstairs, where there's an open landing and then a corridor by the side of the stairs. Garrett opens the first door in the corridor to reveal a dark, cozy bedroom, themed with a spruce brown. A double bed with big sheets is in the middle, a rocking chair beside it with a brown drape, and a desk beside that. There are pretty embroidered rugs on the wooden floor and a window opposite the bed, looking out onto the farm. Either side of the bed is a small table, one with a lantern and the means to light it, and beside that a closet. A bookcase sits against the wall next to the window.

"Here you go Dawn. Hope it's cozy enough for you," Garrett says warmly as she enters, examining the room before throwing herself onto the bed with a huge sigh of satisfaction. "Feel free to draw the curtains or keep 'em open, whatever suits you. Bathroom's the next door over in the corridor."

"Thank you so much!" she pushes her face into the plump pillows and kicks her legs.

"Not a problem at all. You rest well kid, goodnight," he nods his head to her and she murmurs something back, probably a 'goodnight' in return, but it's too muffled by the pillows to be sure. He shuts the door and leaves her to her devices. "I'll show you yours now Smock, but you're free to stay up a 'lil longer 'n have a drink with us."

Smock feels in a good enough mood to stay up and talk. Seeing Dawn so happy and comfortable in a safe place cheers him up greatly, and knowing they'll both have a good night's sleep even more. "Sure thing. I gotta go grab her stuff from downstairs anyway, so I'll head up with you guys."

"Sounds fine by me," Garrett nods before making his way to the next door in the corridor, just past the bathroom and next to what he assumes is the master bedroom at the very end. "Here you go. Sorry it's not the biggest room - the other spare is bein' used for storage right now 'n the other door on the landin' is pure storage too."

"It's alright. I'm thankful to have somewhere nice to sleep at all," Smock turns to him with appreciation, and with that they return downstairs.

Together they go to the pantry, where the bags are stored, and Smock rummages through his and Dawn's belongings, checking everything is still together and sorting through anything in the other bags. He grabs the κασέρι and puts it in her bag, then takes it upstairs for her.

He knocks on Dawn's door. There's a sound of movement, then a bright, "Come in!"

When he enters she's curled up on the bed, having found a book from the bookcase, seemingly engrossed by it. He can't help but smile at the sight, pleased to see her already enjoying reading. "Here's all your stuff. You settling in okay?"

She puts down the book and sits up against the pillows, legs crossed, gesturing for Smock to come sit on the bed too. "Yeah. I really like it here, Bo and Garrett are so nice."

"I'm really glad. Hopefully we'll be able to stay here for a while," Smock takes a seat, looking across to her warmly.

"Yeah, hopefully," she agrees, pulling her cloak over her body. "I'm really excited to go out into town and see what's there."

"Me too. It seems like a really interesting place and the people have been nice so far. Maybe you'll make a couple friends out here," he suggests.

"That'd be nice," Dawn looks away for a moment, then shuffles over to him. "Can I have a hug?"

"Of course you can," Smock opens his arms and she moves into the embrace, hugging him tight.

"I miss Klaus and my mama, I've never had to spend a day without them," she murmurs. Smock feels a pang of guilt but pushes it aside - she needs him right now.

"I know. This isn't fair on you Dawn, but you're pushing through better than anyone I've ever known. I'm proud of you," he reassures her gently, rubbing her back.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "They should be here right now, seeing all of this too."

"Yeah, they should. But hey, you can go out and experience it for them," Smock feels her shudder with a silent sob.

"I will," Dawn nods, her voice shaking. "I'll make them proud."

"You sure will," he pats her back gently, wishing more than ever he could bring them back for her.

After some time they part and Dawn rubs her eyes, looking back to her book. "Well I'd better get back to reading. I really like this one."

"What's it about?" Smock asks, getting up from the side of the bed.

"It's about this girl who goes to a magic school, but I'm not very far into it so I'm not sure where it goes!" she answers brightly, picking it up and showing him the cover. It displays a girl who looks around Dawn's age pointing a wand to a stormy sky.

"Looks fun. I hope you enjoy it," Smock heads for the door, then remembers something and turns to her before he leaves. "And check your stuff. There's something in there you're gonna love."

As she starts digging into her bag with excitement, Smock exits the room. He stands and waits for a moment, then hears a sound of joy from her, and with a warm smile takes his leave downstairs.

When he gets there he sees that they've already got three glasses of cider out, made on the farm by the looks of the 'Bo 'n co' label on the bigger glass bottle. He takes his regular seat and takes his glass with an appreciative smile to the others.

Bo speaks after a few moments, "Is Dawn doing alright?"

"Yeah, just... missing some people she knew," he answers, taking a sip of his drink. It's delicious and wonderfully fresh in taste.

"Yeah, I figured somethin' was up when I asked where y'all are from," Garrett's lips curve just slightly into a subtle frown.

Smock feels as though an explanation is in order, and so he gets comfortable and tries to hide the sorrow that passes over him. "She actually lost everyone she's known last night, her mom and her best friend were among them."

"Gods, that's awful," Garrett's arm moves to rest over Bo's shoulders and a complex look overcomes his face. "Must be a lot losin' people like that... You her dad by any chance?"

"No, I kinda just... stumbled across her and the others by accident, and I couldn't just leave her after it all happened," he corrects, though he knows they bear a striking resemblance to one another in a few ways. "It was a pretty traumatising ordeal. She's coping well considering what happened."

"I'm real sorry to hear it. Hopefully tomorrow will cheer her up a bit - I picked the more fun jobs out," Garrett says with a softness to his tone.

"I'm sure it will. She's liking it here so far," he stated. It's hard not to enjoy the place when it's so cozy and its owners are good company.

"I'm real glad to hear it," Garrett says, sipping his drink. Bo leans against him, getting comfortable. "It's a relief to meet someone so chill with things. We've been havin' trouble with that Valett. He's a real hostile fella - been makin' all sorts of rumours, havin' people come to our shop askin' real weird stuff. Brings in business eventually, but it's uncomfortable."

"He's an absolute ass. Refuses to hire demonkin 'n beastfolk for some damn reason - they ain't hurtin' anyone," Bo adds with a fiery passion.

"That's fucked up," Smock frowns. "I kinda forget how things are outside of Riloris. There you're crazy to even think about doin' that kinda thing."

"Yeah, sounds like a much more acceptin' place, though the lifestyle is much different from what I hear," Garrett nods thoughtfully.

"Very, though it calms down a bit the closer to Miria you get," Smock tells him.

"I'd imagine. It's pretty relaxed 'round here, despite the occasional trouble," Bo comments. "Though, the wolves are worse than any of the people."

"I've never seen a wolf," Smock thinks out loud.

"They're big beasts, bigger than you expect, and they can turn on you in an instant," Bo explains. He rolls up the sleeves on his white shirt to reveal scars on his arms, both bites and scratches, some more recent than others. "As you can see, I'm used to wrestlin' with 'em."

Smock's eyes widen a little. He's seen worse scars on sailors, but they're still impressive. "You've got some damn guts to go fighting wolves like that."

"He's the bravest fella I know," Garrett kisses the other's cheek with a smile. "I've got a few too, but he's the one that usually takes care of problems 'round here first."

"Well it's good to know me and Dawn are in good hands," Smock laughs warmly.

"Damn right you are," Garrett says, raising his glass to his humour, and then they drink.

Eventually the bunch decide to call it a night after finishing the bottle of cider. Smock says goodnight to the couple as they go to their room, themed in a similar brown to all the others, then enters his own with his bag in tow, which bears resemblance to the one Dawn is in, just with a few things changed around.

He settles into bed and opens his sketchbook, looking at his earlier doodles. He'd sketched a few ravens and Dawn's face, and next starts on doodling his youngest sibling Chamuel, smiling fondly as he remembers his face. He stays up for a while perfecting it until he can almost see [description of Chamuel] in his mind, just as vividly as the real thing, as though it were mere days ago that he'd last seen his siblings.

When he gets under the covers he manages to settle with ease, comfortable and perfectly warm, feeling completely safe. He drifts off, and tonight he has no nightmares at all.