Off the side of the road was an alcove with the memory of what was once a bustling strip mall. From the cracked earth, bits of pavement on a forgotten road stood upright, the yellow lines intersecting the cracked bits of concrete having been faded by the sun. Their trio stopped inside of one such building, whose front had completely come off, but the roof and three walls were still standing, enough to provide them a bit of shelter from the sweltering heat.
Scout turned off her bike first, performing a cursory sweep of the area to make certain that they were alone. Once she was sure, she nodded to the others, but her shoulders did not ease and her ears remained alert. The floor in the old mall, like in most places in the Wastes, was covered in dirt and sand, blown inside from years of storms. The wolf stretched her legs, a bit sore from sitting for so long on her bike.
Ljilja wriggled inside, wasting no time in tugging back her hood to spit out the dust in her mouth. She emptied the remainder of her sponsor's water canister in her face, blinking and rubbing her eyes to clear it. The little fish groaned with relief, dangling limply from the giant metal arms that supported her in the air.
In the distance, a muffled blast signaled the launch of a replacement canister, which moments later, pelted the sand outside like a meteor. Ljilja scurried right back out to get it, then huddled back inside the ruined storefront, clutching the Hyper-Drive canteen to her chest.
Boqin dismounted his bike and hobbled his way inside. He had other reasons to clutch at his chest. His wounds had grown infected, though luckily his lungs were still functional. He was alive and kicking, but he needed proper treatment at a real medical facility. Boqin stepped onward into the building, sitting down out of sight behind a counter to tend to his injuries.
In the meantime, Scout's stomach growled, gnawing at her insides. The wolf was perpetually hungry, but the last few days, especially so. She was struggling to keep anything down and the food in the packets was not helping. Despite this, Scout knew she had to try. Dumping the contents of her extra bag on the floor, she reached for a dehydrated spaghetti and meatballs. Before tasting the food served in the mutant corridors where they had trained, Scout would have thought these packets were a five-star dinner.
Now, however, she knew what pancakes were and the taste of thick, rich, hot chocolate. Compared to those, the packets were dry and tasteless. Still, Scout used a little bit of water to hydrate hers and placed it on the sand to wait. Never the conversationalist, she sat with a thunk! Facing the outside, so that she might watch for approaching predators.
Ljilja watched both Boqin and Scout isolate themselves, but supposed that Scout could make better use of the company. The little blue aquatic shuffled out of her Longjacks and, as they folded themselves up, took and rehydrated a packet of her own, tossing it beside Scout's.
Then, she scooted up next to the wolf, her little hands reaching out to try and take hold of her arm.
Scout's ears flickered at the sound of Ljilja's food packet dropping beside her own. A body joined her in the sand and in typical Ljilja fashion, she reached for the wolf. There was no use in trying to stop her, Scout had come to realize. She didn't say anything, while Ljilja attempted to take hold of her arm.
Attaching herself to Scout, she settled beside her, resting her head against her shoulder and staring out into the sea of sand. For a mutant like Ljilja, this must have been the last place she wanted to be, but with any luck, it would all be over soon, and she would be on the next flight to Staša...preferably with the wolf in tow.
Clinging to her arm, Ljilja murmured, "Will you sleep tonight?"
Scout glanced down at Ljilja, then back at the packet of food, which had become bloated from steam. "No," the wolf replied, her voice low and gravely. She reached forward to pick up her food pack, which was probably only half cooked "I'm not tired, so s'okay," Scout amended. Her body, however, told a different story. There were bags beneath Scout's eyes from getting such little sleep and her movements were slow, as though she had to think each step through.
Ljilja released Scout's arm and looked her over with worry. Just as Scout felt powerless to stop Ljilja from being clingy, Ljilja felt powerless to stop Scout from pushing her body to its absolute limits. She frowned, bending forward to reach for her own packet, slowly inching it across the ground with her fingertips to avoid getting burnt.
Scout rummaged through her rucksack, offering Ljilja the gift of a fork. It was a metal fork, clearly not from their kits. "Lifted it from one of the dining halls," Scout explained, just in case Ljilja questioned where she had gotten it from.
Ljilja bowed her head in thanks and took the fork, using it to drag her heated food packet into reach. Then, she stuck it into the packet's opening, plying it apart to let the steam and heat escape.
Scout could smell the salty aroma of preserved food, but also caught the scent of Boqin's first aid in the background; he was evidently washing his wounds, because Scout could hear him quietly wincing among the sting of strong synthetic alcohol mixed with dried blood. Quickly the burn of the isopropanol became all that was detectable; he began wrapping himself once more with bandages as the liquid rapidly evaporated.
Scout's ears twitched and her nose gave a subtle wiggle. The sharp twang of the isopropyl was a familiar smell, one that she could never escape from. The wolf ripped open the top of her food packet with her teeth, staring down into it to see the noodles that would be slightly too crunchy and the meatballs, which, despite absorbing the water, would still be far too dry, even with the watered-down sauce that had reanimated itself at the bottom of the packet.
She stuck her fork in, swirling it around to try and spread the tomato paste, her tail swishing slowly in the sand behind them.
Ljilja, none the wiser, simply sat and waited for the packet to cool, humming her waiting song to herself.
Boqin emerged wearing his hoodie and holding the strangely shaped bottle from before. Its paper label was covered in strange, hand-brushed inscriptions that looked more like small sketches than letters. Likely, this was Boqin's language.
He stepped over to the wolf and fish, extending out the bottle for examination. Uncorked, it smelled of rosy flowers and strangely not at all of alcohol.
"Would either of you care to sample this gift?
Scout looked up when Boqin approached them, having been staring down her dinner. "What is it?" She asked, head tilting slightly. From her seat, she could smell it, a scent she could not recognize. Scout had never been around flowers, so it was no wonder she was unfamiliar with their scent.
"A form of sake," he explained. "We flavor it with blossoms found in the area around Minu. Though...this one appears to be from a different land."
It took Scout a bit of effort to not grimace. They were going to drink alcohol? Here? "No thanks, one of us has to stay sober," she excused. While many of the dead cities had laws surrounding drinking, almost no one followed them. Scout had seen first-hand the effects of what alcohol could do to a person. She had no desire to partake in it.
Ljilja tilted her head, confused by the objection. She had only positive associations with inebriated people, though it had been said that liquor brought out a person's true self.
"One sip would hardly encroach upon that," he said, slowly settling himself down to sit on the floor beside Scout and Ljilja. "I assure you, the taste is not unpleasant."
"No," Scout said again, a bit stronger, this time. "You can drink yourself blind, but I'm not having any." She stabbed her fork into her food packet, hitting an unsuspecting meatball. It looked like even the wolf had some morals.
He sighed with disappointment, taking a small sip from the bottle. "As you say," he answered. It seemed like there was more on his mind than just the objection; he gazed upon the label, reading it to himself and frowning.
"I want some!" Ljilja proclaimed.
At this, Boqin turned. "Are you sure that is wise, little fish? Have you had alcoholic beverages before?"
She nodded ecstatically. "All the time! They are part of rations! Tata and I would get dizzy together and laugh at silly things."
The smile on Ljilja's face slowly disappeared as she came to some sort of realization. To snap her out of it, Boqin extended the bottle for her to take.
"I believe you. Have some," Boqin offered.
Ljilja sipped at the bottle, then hugged it to herself and swayed in place, savoring the flavor. "It tastes like flowers!" she exclaimed.
Boqin grinned. "It does," he answered.
Scout watched them pass the bottle between themselves, her gaze wary. What was so great about it? What did flowers even taste like? Scout had only ever heard of flowers. Nothing grew in the Wastes and the forests were too dense and toxic for anything so pleasant to blossom. The only thing that ever grew in the Tundra were vegetables in greenhouses, and her old owner had never brought anything like flowers home.
Now, as she neared the end of her lifespan, Scout doubted she would ever get the chance to see one.
Somewhere along the way, between Boqin and Ljilja taking swigs of the bottle, Ljilja had eaten her share of the food packet. She gave the rest to Scout, certain that she would want the extra.
"This for you," she declared, holding out the remainder of the food to her wolfish companion. "You eat more than me," she said. While it was certainly true, her statements were becoming increasingly direct and plain.
Scout had been eating slowly, washing down every few bites with a sip of water. Not to make the food more palatable, but to keep it down. Someone had taken notice and by the time Scout had emptied her packet, Ljilja reached out to hand the wolf the rest of her food. "Thanks," Scout took it from her, her stomach turning over at the thought of eating more, despite the constant gnawing. She fell silent once more, eating quietly. Her brooding expression had softened just a bit as her fork picked at the leftover rice and ground meat that Ljilja had been eating.
At least rice was easier, she thought. "What's so appealing about getting drunk, anyway?" She grumbled beneath her breath, tail laying still in the sand.
"It is hard to say unless you feel it. It is...like floating on the sea, water calm," Ljilja explained. It took her a minute to realize that Scout did not have the same associations with the ocean. She fell back into Hrvat, the tongue of her homeland, but again had to reel herself back to recall that Scout would not understand that, either. She resigned herself to simply saying, "It makes you stop worrying so much!"
Scout did not think anyone would have heard her, she was almost surprised that Ljilja answered. "It brings out an ugliness in people," she spoke plainly. "It makes you hurt people," That was the alcohol that Scout knew, not this ocean of calm that Ljilja spoke of.
Ljilja snuggled up to Scout, doing her best to wriggle beneath her arm. Even ordinarily, she was something of a cuddlebug, but apparently the alcohol was making her bolder. "Am I ugly?" she asked, beaming up to Scout with bright blue eyes.
Scout looked down at Ljilja, whose eyes were glittering innocently. "I don't think so," she grumbled, crumpling up their garbage to collect it. She shuffled in the sand a bit, attempting to put a bit of distance between her and Ljilja.
Ljilja giggled and attempted to sit back upright, but wound up flopping into Scout's lap. She wriggled for a bit, then decided that it wasn't worth the effort to get back up.
"I do not hurt people either," she said. "So it does not make me bad. It just makes me more...me!"
Scout sighed again, her ears falling forward. Scout's aversion to alcohol was not something others could easily understand, not unless she told them, but that likely was not going to happen. "It doesn't matter," She shook her head. Ljilja did not have that ugliness inside of her, Scout didn't think, but there were few that the wolf could ever trust with the truth.
Boqin reached out and patted Ljilja's head. "It is enough that she has said no," he said, remarkably lucid in comparison. He held his liquor well.
"Fiiiine," Ljilja whined.
There were a few moments of silence before Ljilja began to sing, this time in English.
"Oh, what a rotten time we've had—yes, we say so; and we know so—while you lay on your feathered bed; oh, poor old man!"
There was some relief in Boqin respecting her decision. He seemed not the slightest bit tipsy, or if he was, he hid it well.
It was a wonder how Ljilja could remember all of these songs. "Is it another timing song?" Scout asked, referring to the tune Ljilja sang to time her food, or was this one different?
Ljilja shook her head. "It is a home-song. When you arrive home from a long trip," she explained.
"But he won't bother us no more; no, he won't bother us no more; and you won't see his like no more; you won't see any of his like no more!"
She stretched out her arms to either side of her, sighing warmly. "I miss moj tata," she admitted only several drinks in.
Scout brushed a hand through her tangled hair. "What was your home like?" Scout asked, wondering what it was about it that Ljilja missed so much. Boqin, too, was only in this death game for his village.
What was it like to have something you cherished so much, you were willing to die for it?
"My home?" Ljilja asked, remembering only after that Scout did not understand Hrvat. "I meant my dad. Home is nice, but...it is not the same now."
Scout frowned, was it because her Dad had died? "Oh..." Scout trailed off, not sure what else to say. She wasn't good with sentimentality.
Ljilja grabbed in Boqin's direction, evidently wanting another sip.
"It is nearly finished," he said, "but you may have the honor."
Taking the sake from him, she gulped down the last few swigs and set the bottle aside.
"He had the Ori. I find out just before I leave," Ljilja explained. Her grasp of English seemed to be deteriorating, and her gaze was hazy, like she was looking through fog.
Scout's lips pressed together. "Quiet," her ears twitched. There was a hovercam floating just inside, its lens zooming in to focus on the scene.
"Sh*t," it probably already caught that. Scout rose, depositing Ljilja's head gently on the sand. She stalked towards it, the AI controlled camera having no sense of danger.
Before the AI could detect what was happening, a sword had buried itself in the lens, the glass cracking and the bot fizzing and smoking, before hitting the ground.
"Alright," Scout gave it one last kick for good measure. "The humans will use any bit of information they can against mutants." Was the excuse Scout used and it was probably true, but Scout did not want the cams to broadcast Ljilja's grief.
Ljilja did not understand the need for secrecy, either because of her inebriation or because she was not one to keep secrets. Either way, she watched, her head resting on sand, as Scout stabbed a camera.
As Scout returned, Ljilja reached out her arms toward her. "Put me baaaack," she whined. Back where? In her lap?
"I think you need some water," Scout replied, taking the canteen and holding it out in Ljilja's direction. "At least you'll sleep well." She glanced in Boqin's direction, who had been silent for a majority of the evening. "You should rest, too."
Boqin looked at Scout and nodded, remaining silent. He stood and walked to his bike, grabbing his sleeping bag and heading to the back of the small store.
Ljlija guzzled down the water offered to her, already beginning to fall asleep where she was. "Pilloooooow," she whined, her little arms waggling in Scout's direction.
Scout was not sure what Ljilja wanted, they hadn't had pillows this entire time, only their sleeping bags and backpacks. "Here," Scout knelt in the sand, holding out Ljilja's sleeping bag so that she could use it to rest.
Ljilja wrinkled her nose. She took the sleeping bag, but also reached for Scout's hand. "Sit, sit," she pleaded.
With another sigh, Scout sat in the sand. Did alcohol always make people this needy?
Finally, Ljilja shuffled into the sleeping bag, resting her head in Scout's lap. There, she closed her eyes, seeming content at last. "Very better," she murmured peacefully.
Scout shook her head, tail moving slowly in the sand again. "You're both gonna regret this tomorrow,” Scout grumbled.
No response was forthcoming; her body had fallen limp, and she was sleeping soundly where she was.
Scout turned off her bike first, performing a cursory sweep of the area to make certain that they were alone. Once she was sure, she nodded to the others, but her shoulders did not ease and her ears remained alert. The floor in the old mall, like in most places in the Wastes, was covered in dirt and sand, blown inside from years of storms. The wolf stretched her legs, a bit sore from sitting for so long on her bike.
Ljilja wriggled inside, wasting no time in tugging back her hood to spit out the dust in her mouth. She emptied the remainder of her sponsor's water canister in her face, blinking and rubbing her eyes to clear it. The little fish groaned with relief, dangling limply from the giant metal arms that supported her in the air.
In the distance, a muffled blast signaled the launch of a replacement canister, which moments later, pelted the sand outside like a meteor. Ljilja scurried right back out to get it, then huddled back inside the ruined storefront, clutching the Hyper-Drive canteen to her chest.
Boqin dismounted his bike and hobbled his way inside. He had other reasons to clutch at his chest. His wounds had grown infected, though luckily his lungs were still functional. He was alive and kicking, but he needed proper treatment at a real medical facility. Boqin stepped onward into the building, sitting down out of sight behind a counter to tend to his injuries.
In the meantime, Scout's stomach growled, gnawing at her insides. The wolf was perpetually hungry, but the last few days, especially so. She was struggling to keep anything down and the food in the packets was not helping. Despite this, Scout knew she had to try. Dumping the contents of her extra bag on the floor, she reached for a dehydrated spaghetti and meatballs. Before tasting the food served in the mutant corridors where they had trained, Scout would have thought these packets were a five-star dinner.
Now, however, she knew what pancakes were and the taste of thick, rich, hot chocolate. Compared to those, the packets were dry and tasteless. Still, Scout used a little bit of water to hydrate hers and placed it on the sand to wait. Never the conversationalist, she sat with a thunk! Facing the outside, so that she might watch for approaching predators.
Ljilja watched both Boqin and Scout isolate themselves, but supposed that Scout could make better use of the company. The little blue aquatic shuffled out of her Longjacks and, as they folded themselves up, took and rehydrated a packet of her own, tossing it beside Scout's.
Then, she scooted up next to the wolf, her little hands reaching out to try and take hold of her arm.
Scout's ears flickered at the sound of Ljilja's food packet dropping beside her own. A body joined her in the sand and in typical Ljilja fashion, she reached for the wolf. There was no use in trying to stop her, Scout had come to realize. She didn't say anything, while Ljilja attempted to take hold of her arm.
Attaching herself to Scout, she settled beside her, resting her head against her shoulder and staring out into the sea of sand. For a mutant like Ljilja, this must have been the last place she wanted to be, but with any luck, it would all be over soon, and she would be on the next flight to Staša...preferably with the wolf in tow.
Clinging to her arm, Ljilja murmured, "Will you sleep tonight?"
Scout glanced down at Ljilja, then back at the packet of food, which had become bloated from steam. "No," the wolf replied, her voice low and gravely. She reached forward to pick up her food pack, which was probably only half cooked "I'm not tired, so s'okay," Scout amended. Her body, however, told a different story. There were bags beneath Scout's eyes from getting such little sleep and her movements were slow, as though she had to think each step through.
Ljilja released Scout's arm and looked her over with worry. Just as Scout felt powerless to stop Ljilja from being clingy, Ljilja felt powerless to stop Scout from pushing her body to its absolute limits. She frowned, bending forward to reach for her own packet, slowly inching it across the ground with her fingertips to avoid getting burnt.
Scout rummaged through her rucksack, offering Ljilja the gift of a fork. It was a metal fork, clearly not from their kits. "Lifted it from one of the dining halls," Scout explained, just in case Ljilja questioned where she had gotten it from.
Ljilja bowed her head in thanks and took the fork, using it to drag her heated food packet into reach. Then, she stuck it into the packet's opening, plying it apart to let the steam and heat escape.
Scout could smell the salty aroma of preserved food, but also caught the scent of Boqin's first aid in the background; he was evidently washing his wounds, because Scout could hear him quietly wincing among the sting of strong synthetic alcohol mixed with dried blood. Quickly the burn of the isopropanol became all that was detectable; he began wrapping himself once more with bandages as the liquid rapidly evaporated.
Scout's ears twitched and her nose gave a subtle wiggle. The sharp twang of the isopropyl was a familiar smell, one that she could never escape from. The wolf ripped open the top of her food packet with her teeth, staring down into it to see the noodles that would be slightly too crunchy and the meatballs, which, despite absorbing the water, would still be far too dry, even with the watered-down sauce that had reanimated itself at the bottom of the packet.
She stuck her fork in, swirling it around to try and spread the tomato paste, her tail swishing slowly in the sand behind them.
Ljilja, none the wiser, simply sat and waited for the packet to cool, humming her waiting song to herself.
Boqin emerged wearing his hoodie and holding the strangely shaped bottle from before. Its paper label was covered in strange, hand-brushed inscriptions that looked more like small sketches than letters. Likely, this was Boqin's language.
He stepped over to the wolf and fish, extending out the bottle for examination. Uncorked, it smelled of rosy flowers and strangely not at all of alcohol.
"Would either of you care to sample this gift?
Scout looked up when Boqin approached them, having been staring down her dinner. "What is it?" She asked, head tilting slightly. From her seat, she could smell it, a scent she could not recognize. Scout had never been around flowers, so it was no wonder she was unfamiliar with their scent.
"A form of sake," he explained. "We flavor it with blossoms found in the area around Minu. Though...this one appears to be from a different land."
It took Scout a bit of effort to not grimace. They were going to drink alcohol? Here? "No thanks, one of us has to stay sober," she excused. While many of the dead cities had laws surrounding drinking, almost no one followed them. Scout had seen first-hand the effects of what alcohol could do to a person. She had no desire to partake in it.
Ljilja tilted her head, confused by the objection. She had only positive associations with inebriated people, though it had been said that liquor brought out a person's true self.
"One sip would hardly encroach upon that," he said, slowly settling himself down to sit on the floor beside Scout and Ljilja. "I assure you, the taste is not unpleasant."
"No," Scout said again, a bit stronger, this time. "You can drink yourself blind, but I'm not having any." She stabbed her fork into her food packet, hitting an unsuspecting meatball. It looked like even the wolf had some morals.
He sighed with disappointment, taking a small sip from the bottle. "As you say," he answered. It seemed like there was more on his mind than just the objection; he gazed upon the label, reading it to himself and frowning.
"I want some!" Ljilja proclaimed.
At this, Boqin turned. "Are you sure that is wise, little fish? Have you had alcoholic beverages before?"
She nodded ecstatically. "All the time! They are part of rations! Tata and I would get dizzy together and laugh at silly things."
The smile on Ljilja's face slowly disappeared as she came to some sort of realization. To snap her out of it, Boqin extended the bottle for her to take.
"I believe you. Have some," Boqin offered.
Ljilja sipped at the bottle, then hugged it to herself and swayed in place, savoring the flavor. "It tastes like flowers!" she exclaimed.
Boqin grinned. "It does," he answered.
Scout watched them pass the bottle between themselves, her gaze wary. What was so great about it? What did flowers even taste like? Scout had only ever heard of flowers. Nothing grew in the Wastes and the forests were too dense and toxic for anything so pleasant to blossom. The only thing that ever grew in the Tundra were vegetables in greenhouses, and her old owner had never brought anything like flowers home.
Now, as she neared the end of her lifespan, Scout doubted she would ever get the chance to see one.
Somewhere along the way, between Boqin and Ljilja taking swigs of the bottle, Ljilja had eaten her share of the food packet. She gave the rest to Scout, certain that she would want the extra.
"This for you," she declared, holding out the remainder of the food to her wolfish companion. "You eat more than me," she said. While it was certainly true, her statements were becoming increasingly direct and plain.
Scout had been eating slowly, washing down every few bites with a sip of water. Not to make the food more palatable, but to keep it down. Someone had taken notice and by the time Scout had emptied her packet, Ljilja reached out to hand the wolf the rest of her food. "Thanks," Scout took it from her, her stomach turning over at the thought of eating more, despite the constant gnawing. She fell silent once more, eating quietly. Her brooding expression had softened just a bit as her fork picked at the leftover rice and ground meat that Ljilja had been eating.
At least rice was easier, she thought. "What's so appealing about getting drunk, anyway?" She grumbled beneath her breath, tail laying still in the sand.
"It is hard to say unless you feel it. It is...like floating on the sea, water calm," Ljilja explained. It took her a minute to realize that Scout did not have the same associations with the ocean. She fell back into Hrvat, the tongue of her homeland, but again had to reel herself back to recall that Scout would not understand that, either. She resigned herself to simply saying, "It makes you stop worrying so much!"
Scout did not think anyone would have heard her, she was almost surprised that Ljilja answered. "It brings out an ugliness in people," she spoke plainly. "It makes you hurt people," That was the alcohol that Scout knew, not this ocean of calm that Ljilja spoke of.
Ljilja snuggled up to Scout, doing her best to wriggle beneath her arm. Even ordinarily, she was something of a cuddlebug, but apparently the alcohol was making her bolder. "Am I ugly?" she asked, beaming up to Scout with bright blue eyes.
Scout looked down at Ljilja, whose eyes were glittering innocently. "I don't think so," she grumbled, crumpling up their garbage to collect it. She shuffled in the sand a bit, attempting to put a bit of distance between her and Ljilja.
Ljilja giggled and attempted to sit back upright, but wound up flopping into Scout's lap. She wriggled for a bit, then decided that it wasn't worth the effort to get back up.
"I do not hurt people either," she said. "So it does not make me bad. It just makes me more...me!"
Scout sighed again, her ears falling forward. Scout's aversion to alcohol was not something others could easily understand, not unless she told them, but that likely was not going to happen. "It doesn't matter," She shook her head. Ljilja did not have that ugliness inside of her, Scout didn't think, but there were few that the wolf could ever trust with the truth.
Boqin reached out and patted Ljilja's head. "It is enough that she has said no," he said, remarkably lucid in comparison. He held his liquor well.
"Fiiiine," Ljilja whined.
There were a few moments of silence before Ljilja began to sing, this time in English.
"Oh, what a rotten time we've had—yes, we say so; and we know so—while you lay on your feathered bed; oh, poor old man!"
There was some relief in Boqin respecting her decision. He seemed not the slightest bit tipsy, or if he was, he hid it well.
It was a wonder how Ljilja could remember all of these songs. "Is it another timing song?" Scout asked, referring to the tune Ljilja sang to time her food, or was this one different?
Ljilja shook her head. "It is a home-song. When you arrive home from a long trip," she explained.
"But he won't bother us no more; no, he won't bother us no more; and you won't see his like no more; you won't see any of his like no more!"
She stretched out her arms to either side of her, sighing warmly. "I miss moj tata," she admitted only several drinks in.
Scout brushed a hand through her tangled hair. "What was your home like?" Scout asked, wondering what it was about it that Ljilja missed so much. Boqin, too, was only in this death game for his village.
What was it like to have something you cherished so much, you were willing to die for it?
"My home?" Ljilja asked, remembering only after that Scout did not understand Hrvat. "I meant my dad. Home is nice, but...it is not the same now."
Scout frowned, was it because her Dad had died? "Oh..." Scout trailed off, not sure what else to say. She wasn't good with sentimentality.
Ljilja grabbed in Boqin's direction, evidently wanting another sip.
"It is nearly finished," he said, "but you may have the honor."
Taking the sake from him, she gulped down the last few swigs and set the bottle aside.
"He had the Ori. I find out just before I leave," Ljilja explained. Her grasp of English seemed to be deteriorating, and her gaze was hazy, like she was looking through fog.
Scout's lips pressed together. "Quiet," her ears twitched. There was a hovercam floating just inside, its lens zooming in to focus on the scene.
"Sh*t," it probably already caught that. Scout rose, depositing Ljilja's head gently on the sand. She stalked towards it, the AI controlled camera having no sense of danger.
Before the AI could detect what was happening, a sword had buried itself in the lens, the glass cracking and the bot fizzing and smoking, before hitting the ground.
"Alright," Scout gave it one last kick for good measure. "The humans will use any bit of information they can against mutants." Was the excuse Scout used and it was probably true, but Scout did not want the cams to broadcast Ljilja's grief.
Ljilja did not understand the need for secrecy, either because of her inebriation or because she was not one to keep secrets. Either way, she watched, her head resting on sand, as Scout stabbed a camera.
As Scout returned, Ljilja reached out her arms toward her. "Put me baaaack," she whined. Back where? In her lap?
"I think you need some water," Scout replied, taking the canteen and holding it out in Ljilja's direction. "At least you'll sleep well." She glanced in Boqin's direction, who had been silent for a majority of the evening. "You should rest, too."
Boqin looked at Scout and nodded, remaining silent. He stood and walked to his bike, grabbing his sleeping bag and heading to the back of the small store.
Ljlija guzzled down the water offered to her, already beginning to fall asleep where she was. "Pilloooooow," she whined, her little arms waggling in Scout's direction.
Scout was not sure what Ljilja wanted, they hadn't had pillows this entire time, only their sleeping bags and backpacks. "Here," Scout knelt in the sand, holding out Ljilja's sleeping bag so that she could use it to rest.
Ljilja wrinkled her nose. She took the sleeping bag, but also reached for Scout's hand. "Sit, sit," she pleaded.
With another sigh, Scout sat in the sand. Did alcohol always make people this needy?
Finally, Ljilja shuffled into the sleeping bag, resting her head in Scout's lap. There, she closed her eyes, seeming content at last. "Very better," she murmured peacefully.
Scout shook her head, tail moving slowly in the sand again. "You're both gonna regret this tomorrow,” Scout grumbled.
No response was forthcoming; her body had fallen limp, and she was sleeping soundly where she was.