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This Forsaken World

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Two: The Cherished Spring

Monica slowly lowers her carbine rifle, dropping it beneath Grey's outstretched hand. She turns her sterling silver eyes toward him, her gaping maw revealing her true feelings.

“So! ... Ready to go?" He asks April.

April blinks, her sapphire eyes growing wide with surprise.

“Uh... What're you doing?" Monica asks.

“We're taking her with us. We're helping, remember?" He glances over to her.

“We'd be better off putting a bullet in that bitch's head."

The snarling Monica raises her carbine rifle all over again, and Grey is quick to step in. Gripping the barrel, his back turned toward April, he forces the firearm downward once more.

“We're not killing anyone today, least of all her." Grey sternly says.

“Grey..."

“Don't make me take this from you... I need you to be okay with this." He continues.

“Well, I'm not. We both know how awful she is." Monica replies.

“I'm not defending her past, but we're here for another purpose."

“Says who?"

“You know who..."

“Don't start that shit again." Monica snickers.

“Believe whatever you want, but we're not hurting or killing anyone."

As the pair argue back and forth, April slowly steps backward. Carefully turning around, she heads back for the forest, hoping to slip away while the human and his dog girl bicker. If anything, she's certain that Monica won't reveal her escape; she may want her dead, but perhaps she simply wants to be away from her? Tiptoeing as best as a Voeldahn can with her pawlike feet, April removes herself from the duo as they bark back and forth. Inch by inch, she approaches the woods from whence she came. Suddenly, a strange clanking sound is heard, followed immediately by metallic links wrapping around her right forearm.

“Not so fast!" Grey chirps.

“The fuck?! Let me go!" April growls.

“But we're being so friendly!" He chuckles.

“Speak for yourself, furless." Monica smirks.

With her arm raised and the bolt of Grey's chain whip wrapped around her wrist, she reaches a clawed hand for the bizarre weapon. Grey pulls at his chain whip before she can untangle herself. The links pinch the fur of her wrist as the links bind painfully. The slender, five-foot and three-inch-tall feline Voeldahn woman is pulled off-balance by the taller, stronger male. In an instant, she recalls her past experiences, a familiar terror overcoming her. Pulling her back, she stumbles toward him, negating the few feet she'd gained in her brief but failed attempt at an escape.

Falling against his chest, Grey wraps an arm around her. Though he holds her tightly, he isn't as forceful as she was expecting. His grip is firm but consciences; it isn't primal. With his index finger and thumb, he removes the bolt from her wrist, dropping the links to the ground with a loud clank. Struggling to pull away, he uses only one hand to hold a wrist, swiftly spinning her around with the other so that her back presses firmly against his chest. With an arm drawn behind her back and bent at a sharp angle, she winces as his arm that holds the handle of his chain whip rests against her chest and over her breasts rather gently.

“Please stop fighting." He speaks softly into her pointy ear.

“If I had a gun, you'd already be dead..." April snarls.

“I know... I wouldn't trust us either, but believe me when I say that we're not going to hurt you."

“And why the fuck should I?" April angrily inquires.

“Because if we were, you'd already be lying in a ditch." He calmly replies.

“Damn straight!" Monica chirps.

With her damp body and moist clothes pressed against him, she can feel the human's breath. Grey's nose sits by her cheek, gently brushing her matted fur, still soaked with rain water and her own perspiration. As he breathes in and out, April can't help but feel a little self-conscious of her own odor; she doesn't smell too pleasant, yet he says nothing of it.

“Are we calm now? Can you walk without me holding your hand?" He asks in a playful tone.

“Fuck you." April murmurs.

To her surprise, Grey's grip on her arm loosens and he soon releases her. Pulling his arm away from her chest, he steps back, his hands up as if he were surrendering. Looking back at him and over her shoulder, April soon turns around, her side facing him as she looks the human over, brushing herself off as if he were covered in filth.

“Alright then... We're going to want to follow this road for a while." He says.

“I... I'm really going with you?" She asks.

“You are." He nods. “Coming, precious?" He glances toward Monica.

“Fuck you, furless." She smirks.

“Excellent! I love road trips!" Grey grins.

April raises a brow at the human's almost innocent exuberance. For as competent and dangerous as he appears to be, he's startling pleasant. Grey quickly folds the links of his chain whip, returning the weapon to a pouch that sits before his sidearm, his Kahr CT9 pistol. With the wave of a hand, Grey presents the road to April. Her narrowed eyes scan him suspiciously. Though pleasant and not particularly threatening, something about him seems strange. April stands in place, staring blankly at Grey. Her face is expressionless as Grey waits for her to move; she never does.

“Alright... I guess I'll lead." He sighs.

He steps forward, walking around April and along the road. Grey hums a little tune to himself, a little grin plastered on his face. April raises a brow and silently chuckles. He seems disturbingly relaxed, given the situation they're in. Hearing Monica's brown, leather boots thudding softly on the broken concrete, the tigress turns her head, looking over at the canine woman. Monica raises her rifle, keeping a safe distance. Her finger caresses the trigger.

“You sure as shit aren't walking behind me... Get moving." Monica growls.

“Yes, ma'am." April quietly scoffs.

With Monica walking a short distance away, April can feel her gaze. The rust and cream colored canine Voeldahn's silver eyes burn holes in the back of her head. Pinching her top near her chest with her clawed fingers, she pulls it away from her wet fur, giving it a little shake. The group walks at a comfortable pace in relative silence, with the exception of Grey, who continues to hum his little tune. April wonders where he's heard music, consider that most towns haven't had electricity in many years. She's only heard a song once before, and can't even recall it.

Occasionally, April glances back at Monica, looking over her shoulder at the woman, who keeps her rifle trained in her general direction, finger still on the trigger. After a particularly long stare, Monica raises the barrel, the weapon subtly clicking as the rounds shift within the long, box magazine that juts from the pistol grip.

“You don't need to keep your rifle on her like that." Grey suddenly remarks.

“Noted." Monica retorts, her weapon remaining in place.

“You're making our new friend nervous. Don't you want to be a good girl?" He teases.

“Mmm... Oh, I will be." Monica winks at him. “Juuust as soon as we're through with this little quest!"

“Suit yourself, precious." He chuckles.

“Stop calling me that, furless." Monica giggles.

“You just want to stare at my ass, don't you?" April smirks.

“Hey, Monica... Trade places?"

Though Grey is obviously joking, April's startled by the distinctly jealous glare that Monica gives her. Is it that she doesn't just mistrust her, but feels her femininity threatened by her? As if to taunt her, April sways her hips with a little more vigor, sashaying behind Grey for a moment. The silently snarling Monica rolls her sterling eyes. After walking until the brink of twilight, Grey suddenly turns from the road. He walks only a few meters into the brush, finding a little clearing. April hesitates to follow him, until the cold steel barrel of the Cobray CM-11 presses into her back. Monica forces her to press on. The women enter the brush, finding Grey as he glances up at the sky, subtly nodding his head.

“Here we are!" He chirps, loudly clasping his hands together.

“And what're we doing here?" April asks.

“Camping!"

“Uh... Why?" April raises a brow.

“Because I'm tired and hungry, and I'm fairly certain both of you are too." He answers.

“Oh, I am, but why here?" She reiterates.

“Why not?"

“We're not far from the road at all! If I squint, I can actually see it from here."

“You're right... I'd better keep the campfire low." He remarks, villainously stroking his long goatee.

“What?!" April laughs, shocked by his audacity.

“We'll be fine." He casually assures her.

“And how the hell do you know that?"

“I have it on good authority." He grins.

“Whose authority?"

Turning his eyes toward the sky, April raises a brow and subtly cocks her head. Grey turns his eyes toward her, his smile ever-present.

“You aren't suggesting..." April hesitates.

“Just trust me on this. We'll be fine."

Clearing an area with his boots, Grey squats down, collecting a pile of nearby rocks and making a small circle around what will be their campfire. Not only is he seriously considering camping there, but he's actually going to build a fire. April is briefly struck by his boldness, still frozen from the bizarre explanation that he gave for his confidence. Monica shoulders her pistol caliber carbine. It's the first time she's pointed the muzzle anywhere else besides April since they've met. Walking past April, who stands dumbfounded, Monica looks her over, her lips pressed together as if snickering.

“Don't worry... You get used to that."

April blinks, trying to wrap her mind around the duo. She takes a few steps closer as she watches Monica aiding Grey in the construction of a basic campsite. Grey collects several cans of food from the old, military butt pack that he wears on his belt, setting them into little groups, with three groups containing two small cans each. Is he actually going to feed her? Grey turns his head toward April as he kneels beside the cans.

“Do you want to help me gather some firewood, or are you not used to working anymore?"

April takes a step closer, her lips curl around her short snout and forming a little grin. With narrowed eyes, she looks over the human male's face and body. He was certainly attractive to her when she first viewed him when he was first imprisoned in her cells; if he wasn't handsome to her, she wouldn't have wanted to rape him as badly as she did. However, he's somehow become even more attractive. Is it his masculine strength, his odd charm, his generosity, or a mixture of everything? Resting her hands on her hips, she shifts her pelvis to one side, subtly posing for him as she smiles wider, showing a few of her pearly white teeth. Monica takes notice.

“I can get my hands dirty, and claws bloody..." April smugly replies. “How do you think I maintain my figure?"

“Vegetables?" He shrugs his shoulders.

April can't help but giggle at his dopey, innocent charm.

“If you're alright with being alone in the woods with me." April winks.

“Just promise to be gentle, and leave something for the crows." He smirks.

“I don't make promises..." April sternly replies.

To Monica's surprise, Grey leads April deeper into the woods, walking a few dozen feet away. They work in silence, collecting dead branches and fallen sticks. Grey peels some birch bark from a tree, only to move to another tree and gather more.

“Why don't you just take it all from one?" April can't help but ask.

“That'd kill the tree." He replies.

April blinks, her eyes and brow raising as she silently chuckles, standing once again in shock. She ponders his answer, wondering if he's truly serious. After taking the bark from a third tree, he breaks off a few larger branches from an already dead elm. Though there'd been a tempest hours earlier, this particular elm is shrouded by many larger trees, the likely cause of its demise, however, it's wood is dry. Grey squats down, reorganizing his considerable pile so that he may carry everything at once. April takes a step closer, seeing his pistol on his left side. Briefly struck by a mutual sense of pride, as they share left-handedness, she shakes it off.

Humming a little tune to himself, Grey leans far forward, bundling everything together. The pistol grip almost cries out to her, begging for her to steal the weapon away from him. With her hand outstretched, April is only inches away from taking the pistol. Suddenly, her fingers coil. She turns her eyes toward him, looking at the back of his head, his long hair draped over his shoulders. Her sinister grin fades, her brow softening as if upset. She pulls her arm away from him, bringing her closed hand toward her chest. For some reason, she cannot bring herself to steal his weapon.

April takes a few loud and deliberate steps around him, a bundle of sticks and branches still tucked beneath her right arm. Kneeling down beside him, Grey looks toward her, smiling pleasantly. He thanks her for the help, as she keeps his bundle in order while he stands to his feet. Walking the short distance back to the campsite, April's mind races. Why couldn't she take his pistol? It isn't the first time she's stolen from someone, or used a stolen weapon to kill the owner and escape. In fact, it's something she's become quite proficient at doing. Returning to the camp, Grey drops his pile beside Monica, who quickly uses the birch bark and the smaller sticks that April carries to build a tiny fire.

Little by little, they add sticks to the fire until it crackles, growing proudly and warming the group. With darkness looming overhead, Grey opens all six cans, setting them near the fire and cooking them to everyone's liking. April is yet again surprised and flattered that he'd even bother to heat the corned beef for her, let alone feed her at all. Serving Monica and April together, Grey eats last, taking the time to cook his own meal thoroughly. No one speaks throughout their dinner, but April continues to stare at Grey, who seems otherwise oblivious to that fact.

Monica, however, takes notice. Occasionally, April would look away from Grey, only to see Monica's silver orbs glaring at her. They shine brightly in the growing darkness. This did not deter the curious April, however. Stoking the fire, Grey glances toward April.

“Drying off yet?"

“Hm? Oh!" April glances down at her breasts, belly and legs. “Yeah. The fire's helping a lot."

“Good. It might get cold tonight." He remarks.

“Aww... Did you build this fire just for me?" April teases him, speaking in a childlike voice.

“Partially. Who doesn't like a hot meal?" He retorts, taking another bite.

“I like everything hot." Monica coos, grinning at Grey.

“Yeah, I've noticed." He smirks.

“Grey..." April begins.

“Yeah?"

“Did you really know I'd be on that road?"

“He took us out of the way to walk there. We were headed south." Monica answers.

“... How did you know?"

“Does it matter?" He retorts.

“No, but I want to know... Please." April presses him.

Grey sighs, hanging his head and resting his forearms on his knees. He turns his head toward her, his eyes sullen and face showing some embarrassment. It's clear to her that he isn't looking forward to answering her.

“Well..." He takes a breath.

“Here we go." Monica smirks.

“It's 'the voice'." He replies.

“The voice?" April raises a brow.

“The voice. Him. The Almighty. That all-knowing mystical being. Whatever you want to call it."

“Ooookay..."

“It tells me where to go, what to do, who to help... It's been bothering me for a few years now." He sighs.

“Huh... So... You're crazy!" April giggles.

“Every time." Monica chuckles.

“I knew there had to be something about you!" April grins.

“It's not funny..." Grey murmurs.

“I mean that in a good way!" April quickly defends her statement. “You're strong, capable, handsome... Really handsome..." She looks him over with narrowed eyes. “But crazy! It's fine; we all have that one thing."

Grey flushes, but Monica glares. She knows that April has a human fetish; it's common knowledge amongst the nomadic criminals and the less-than-reputable tribes. Monica, however, has already spent some time with Grey, and she won't lose him or be pushed aside; as far as she's concerned, Grey is as good as hers. With the overall mood lightened, the group make their beds for the night, sleeping on simple, compact bedrolls. When April is left without, Grey gives her his own, opting to sleep on the ground, wearing his black hooded jacket and vest combo.

Startled by his perpetual generosity, April watches Grey as he lay back in a bed of grass, his head sitting upon his military butt pack as if it were a very rigid pillow. It doesn't seem to phase him in the least. Turning her eyes towards Monica, the canine woman sleeps only feet from Grey, easily within arm's reach. She appears to already be sleeping. Perhaps she was quite tired? Lying down to sleep, April uses her arm as a pillow, curling it beneath her head. She soon drifts off to sleep. After waiting for some time, Monica opens her eyes. She tilts her head down, looking toward Grey.

He appears to be sleeping peacefully. Slowly sitting up, Monica draws a fixed blade knife from a small sheath on her belt. Wielding the three-inches of carbon steel, she holds it in a reserved grip, ready to stab or slash with it. Slipping off her boots, which are fitted for the pawlike feet of the Voeldahn, she rises to her feet and walks softly in the grass, as all Voeldahn do. Sneaking is one of the few things her race can do that's genuinely superior to the humans, who are otherwise equal to them in every physical and mental aspect.

Creeping closer, Monica mentally prepares herself for the task at hand. Readying to kill April in her sleep, she walks softly around Grey's feet, opting not to step over him. She jumps nearly out of her skin when Grey suddenly clears his throat. Freezing in place, Monica turns her eyes toward him, her long, canine snout pointed straight ahead.

“What're you doing?" He quietly asks.

“I'm ending this." She whispers her response.

“No, you're not... Put the knife away."

“You're really going to keep doing this... Charade?"

“What charade?" He asks, sitting upright and looking at her.

“This!" She whispers louder, in a huff. “We're out here, risking our lives! For what?! Her?! That little bitch has killed almost as many people as starvation, and you're just... Giving her food and taking her home? What the fuck, man!" She scolds him.

“It's what we're supposed to do."

“Right..." Monica rolls her eyes, crossing her arms before her chest.

“Don't..."

“Don't what?"

“Treat me like I'm crazy. I know you don't believe me when I tell you how I know things, but how many times have I been wrong? I found Trent on that road because of the voice. I save Ruth from April's cages because of it. I saved you when I could've killed you, even after I got rid of your asshole gang. I kept you alive when Rory and the caravanners wanted to kill you."

“And I saved your life from Rory's poison." Monica retorts.

“I knew about..."

Grey pauses, hesitant to speak of Monica's troubled past. It isn't dissimilar from April's. Monica's face softens, her brow sloping as her eyes become melancholy. They both remember what it was that he whispered to her on the day they'd met; after taking the time to fight her, he spoke into her ear, forcing her to surrender out of pure shame. He'd never reveal her secret, and they both know it now, but it still troubles Monica.

“I knew those things and did all of that because of the voice... Just like I'm doing now. I'm looking after both of you, and so long as I don't deviate from the voice, we'll be okay. Believe me." He softly pleads.

“I want to... I... I'm just scared of what'll happen if she stays with us. She's dangerous."

“I know that." Grey nods. “And I know you aren't happy with it, but as soon as we're done here, we are going south. Her place isn't with us, so just relax. This won't last much longer." He assures her.

“It better not. I'm not guarding that fucking psycho." Monica points her blade at him as if it were her finger.

“And I'm not asking you to." He retorts.

“Good... Because I'm not. I don't even want her near you... Us! Near us!" Monica's eyes widen in shock at her Freudian slip.

“... Are you jealous?" Grey raises a brow.

“Of what? Her?! Hell no... I-I'm just... I..." She stammers.

Quietly rising to his feet, Grey approaching her, sliding his arms beyond Monica's sides and giving her a warm embrace. Hugging her tightly, he gives her cheek a little kiss. Monica is quick to hold him in kind, nuzzling his face with her snout.

“Go back to sleep. This'll be over soon, and then it'll just be the two of us." He whispers into her pointy, canine ear.

“Okay."

Grey gives Monica's butt a little smack before taking his arms away from her. She coos, softly kissing his cheek. Slipping the knife back into her sheath, she winks lustfully at Grey before turning back toward her bedroll. Lying down, she rolls over onto her side. Grey watches her for a moment, before turning his head and looking at the sleeping April. Looking back at Monica, he knows that she's not asleep. Regardless of what she's said, she fully intends to kill April the first chance she has; she doesn't want to do it in front of Grey, lest he attempt to stop her. The voice confirms his suspicions.

Lying on her side and feigning her sleep, Monica is surprised to hear Grey step closer to April. Opening her eyes only a tiny bit, she peeks out, startled to see that he now sits upright beside the sleeping April, guarding her. Her jealousy burns in her chest, her teeth gritting in her closed mouth. She can't move or react in the manner she'd prefer, otherwise he'll know that she's simply trying to wait him out. The minutes turn to hours, and Monica is soon unable to outlast Grey. Genuinely falling asleep, she rolls onto her back and even snores a little. Grey, however, isn't positive that she won't wake up; he'll stay awake all night and watch April.

During the night, April shifts. Her leg jolts as if she's kicking at someone. Mumbling incoherently, Grey's heartbroken when April whimpers as though in fear or pain. Lying on her side and sleeping, the moonlight bounces off of what appears to be a solitary tear escaping from an eye. The pitiful sight tugs at his heartstrings. Grey reaches out a hand, gently resting it on her bicep. April's shifting seems to soften, as does her whimpering. Rolling onto her back, she presses a shoulder blade against his leg. It startles her awake.

Opening her sapphire eyes, April stares up at the sky. Lying against his leg, she turns her eyes and looks up at Grey. It's a familiar position; some twenty years earlier, she was looking up at Sniper after awakening from a nightmare. The bizarre coincidence strikes her, imprinting on her mind. As Sniper had done, Grey's face is warm, his smile inviting and presence comforting.

“I had a bad dream." She speaks softly.

“I heard... What happened to you wasn't your fault."

“Was I talking in my sleep?" April sits up, her face revealing her horror.

“No."

April's brow furls. How is it then that he seems to know? She contemplates what he'd said earlier, only to remember his words when he was very briefly her prisoner, standing in the cell beside Ruth.

“Grey?"

“Yes?"

“Do... Do you really know those things about me?" She sheepishly asks.

“I know what I need too." He answers after a pause.

“How? I mean, I'd never met you before a few days ago."

“I know. I explained this already... Go back to sleep. It'll be alright." He speaks softly.

Looking over at Grey, her eyes scan the human several times. She slowly turns, pointing her back toward him as she lay down on her side. Her spine presses against his leg quite firmly as she makes herself comfortable, resting her head on her bent arm and closing her eyes. Though she makes a concerted effort, her mind wanders and April soon finds herself unable to sleep. Opening her eyes, she turns her head, looking over at Grey, who seems to be staring off into space.

“What do you want from me?" She suddenly asks.

“Hm?" He turns his head to look at her. “I don't want anything." He replies with a perplexed expression.

“Then why are you so nice to me?"

“People don't do nice things just because they want something from someone." He retorts.

“Of course they do. That's all I can ever remember."

“Well, I'm sorry for that. I don't want anything from you, April."

Turning her head, she stares into the darkness, her back still firmly pressed against his leg. Grey reaches out, resting a hand on her bicep and stroking her softly. His touch is unnervingly comforting. It's almost as if she's a small child again, feeling safe and well cared for.

“When we talked earlier... When you were in my cell..." She speaks softly.

“Yeah? What about it?"

“Did you really know about...?"

“Who? Trapper?"

April's heart sinks. She suddenly feels as if his very presence judges her. She can't even bring herself to speak words, merely nodding her head in a shameful response.

“I know enough... It's okay. You're a strong woman, April. You beat him; he's long dead and you aren't in any danger." He says in a warm and comforting tone. “Everything's going to be okay."

Listening to him speak and feeling his soft touch, April believes him. She can't explain how or why, but she does. Her heart burns warmly and her tail sways with delight. She presses her back harder against his leg.

“You're a good person April." He suddenly says.

“I'm a fucking monster..." April murmurs.

“I think you're just pretending."

“I'm not. I've done so many things... Bad things... I'm an animal."

“You don't have to be."

“... I don't know any other way." She sniffles.

“Yes, you do. Start listening to your dreams."

The stunned April has no idea how to respond. She's left flabbergasted by the strange but remarkable human. With her back still pressed against his leg, lying on her side, she feels the warmth of his presence. Closing her eyes, April soon drifts off to sleep, made possible almost exclusively due to Grey's comfort. In her dreams, a teenage April runs through a forest, chased by an unseen assailant. She doesn't need to see to know who's behind her. Racing deeper and deeper into the forest, she scours the land for anything that could be used as a place to hide.

Listening to April whimpering in her sleep, Grey feels terribly guilty for her plight. Leaning over, he drapes an arm across her chest, holding himself up as he uses his other hand to softly pet her head.

“Shh... You're safe now. You're going to be alright." He whispers.

He once read in an old pre-collapse magazine that people who're dreaming can hear the waking world in their sleep. Hoping to positively affect her dream, he assures her over and over again that she's going to be okay and that she's safe. Feeling Grey's arm across her chest and his hand on her head, it does have an effect. In her dream she's caught by her pursuer. Frightened awake, she jolts, her sapphire eyes wide. Swiftly looking down, she sees the human's arm. Reaching up, she grips his forearm with a clawed hand, her breathing labored from her fright.

“Hey, you're alright. Everything's okay, April."

Her hand squeezes his forearm, but not in anger at his violation of her personal space. Instead, she grips him tightly, holding his arm in place and not allowing him to take it away from her. Leaning far over to one side, Grey becomes uncomfortable. April turns her head, her sorrowful eyes crying out to him. Her hand softly tugs at him, in the direction of the ground beneath her. He shifts in response, lying on his side. At her silent direction, the human male spoons with the Voeldahn female, comforting her as she lay before him, trembling from her nightmare. Grey rests his nose on her shoulder and holds her tightly, occasionally whispering positive statements.

Once again comforted by the human, she soon falls asleep. She begins to dream, and as Grey had hoped, his presence has a positive effect. April dreams that she's a little girl again. A light-skinned human arm holds her, keeping her safe. Is it Grey, or is it Sniper? Whoever it is, it doesn't really matter. Awakening early the next morning, April finds herself still being held by the human. Her lips curl with delight around her short snout, her tail draping over his waist. April listens to Grey's breathing, finding comfort even in that. Her clawed hand grips his forearm and she strokes him with a softness that's unusual for her.

Turning her head, she looks over her shoulder, surprised to find Grey sleeping quite peacefully. She watches him for a moment, studying his face and form. Looking over his arm and feeling his warmth, she realizes that it was he who was in her dream. Her heart burns, and a fondness for the human grows like a wildfire. In only a matter of moments, she feels far more for this human than she can ever recall feeling for anyone. A desire to hold him in kind overcomes her. However, she's unwilling to awaken him, unwilling to disturb him with such rudeness. April attempts to carefully shift. She gradually rolls onto her back, her eyes focused on Grey's face.

As his arm slips from her side, resting over her modest bust, she reaches out, resting a hand on his bicep. To her dismay, the shift, however subtle, jostles him awake. Her heart sinks, but she forces a smile.

“Good morning." He says with a little yawn.

April nods her head, using his brief distraction to worm her way even closer to him.

“Did you sleep alright?" She softly asks.

“I wasn't supposed to sleep at all." He begins.

“I'm sorry." April apologizes, turning her head down as if ashamed.

“It's alright, but I did get a few hours in, and they were great. Your sleep seemed peaceful." He adds with a warm smile.

“It was." She smiles back.

Inching closer, her feline nose just brushes his. Grey suddenly pulls back, taking his arms away as he sits up. A disappointed April sits up with him, keeping herself close to him. He stretches, being careful not to accidentally bump her with his arms. April's tail curls around his waist, the tip flicking gently. He turns his eyes down, but doesn't point out her obvious show of affection. Instead, he shifts, facing her.

“Breakfast?"

“You have more food on you?" April raises a brow.

“Oh yeah." He smirks.

Spinning around and rising to his feet, he collects his butt pack and opens the bag, pulling out several more cans of food. Building a fire, a curious April takes a peek at his stash. For a man traveling on foot, even with a companion, it's a considerable haul, weighing several pounds and containing over a dozen small cans and bags of assorted foods. Among his belongings, she even finds a small life straw with a compact hand pump, for filtering water. Turning her attention to Grey, she watches as he uses a ferrocerium rod to start a fire. Striking it with the spine of his knife, he ignites a bundle of old leaves on a birch bark plate.

Preparing three groups of cans, Grey stokes the fire, adding a few more sticks to it. He sits back, waiting for the flames to grow. He sips some water from his bottle as he admires the burgeoning fire. April watches him for a moment, her eyes scanning his frame. With each glance, she longs for another opportunity to touch him. Sitting beside him, she looks over and briefly watches Monica sleeping on her bedroll, sprawled out on her back and snoring.

“She'll wake up as soon as I crack one of these open." Grey comments, taking hold of a can and a pocket sized can opener.

“Oh... Are you two...?"

“Hm?" He looks to April. “Oh! ... I don't think so. I've never slept with her, if that's what you're asking."

“... Why not?"

Grey stops in his tracks, his arms lowering as he turns his head and looks back at April.

“I mean, she's pretty fucking hot." April remarks.

“Well, I'm sure she'd be glad to hear you say that." He smirks.

“So, why haven't you?"

“That's kind of personal, isn't it?"

April shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, it's not like I haven't thought about it. I am a man, after all... I guess I just want more from a person than a cheap, fast release. I can get that all by myself if I wanted. No, I prefer something with a little more substance." He answers.

April's lips curl into a little smiled, pleased by his reply. Humming a now familiar little tune to himself, Grey pokes a hole in the can, slowly opening the first of three large soups.

“Where did you hear that music you're always humming?" She asks.

“I was walking through a village a few years ago, about the same time I started my travels. The first guy I met I saved from a couple of bandits. I managed to scare them off without hurting them." He begins.

“You should've killed them. You know they just went back out there later with better weapons." April interjects.

“Maybe... Anyway, he was into electronics and he'd built a little power farm in his town; a few wind turbines and some solar panels hooked up to batteries. It was his business, charging old flashlights and toys for people in exchange for lighters and cans of food. Well, I brought him back to his place, so he gave me a box of ammunition for my trouble. We sat around for a while afterward and talked about nothing in particular. He was always playing a bunch of songs on an old music player with little speakers mounted to a shelf. He liked songs by 'the something-brothers'. Almond? Acorn? ... I can't remember their names. The songs were nice, though!"

As he finishes his story, Grey lifts the lid of the first can of soup, setting it carefully beside the fire to warm up. Only seconds later, Monica's soft snoring ceases and she opens her sterling silver eyes. After staring into the sky for a moment, she sits upright. After rubbing her eyes, she looks towards the duo, who relax by the fire. Joining the human and the Voeldahn, Monica sits opposite April, planted firmly on Grey's other side. She wipes the morning dew off of her carbine rifle, her narrowed eyes watching April carefully. Though neither of them speak a word; the tension is palpable.

“Get enough sleep?" Monica asks, turning her eyes toward Grey.

“Not really." He smirks.

“Maybe I should stay up and watch you sleep?" April suggests, leaning closer to Grey.

“Then there'd be nothing to stop you two from killing each other." He chuckles.

“You could always hold my arms down." Monica winks.

“You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Grey chuckles.

“Maybe... It would certainly keep me from killing her though, if you gave me something else to occupy my time and energy... All night long." Monica coos.

April's eyes narrow, glaring at Monica with visible jealousy. Monica can't help but smirk at the revelation.

“It'll be easier for everyone if I just suffer through it." He retorts.

Passing Monica and April their warmed cans, the trio eat their humble breakfast in an awkward silence. Both girls glare at the other, with Grey trapped in the middle. The growing tension is impossible for him to ignore, though he does his best. After their meal, Grey pulls the last log from the fire, hastening its demise. Sitting between the two women, he notes their stares. He's eager to get back to the road. Clearing his throat, he gains both of their attention.

“We should probably get moving."

“Right." April nods.

Monica scoots back from April and Grey, carefully pulling back the bolt and checking the chamber of her weapon on impulse. Old brass stares back at her. Grey rises to his feet and pats his belt, checking for any fallen belongings before picking up his military butt pack and attaching it to his belt, near the small of his back. April removes her pigtails, running her claws through her disheveled hair in an attempt to straighten it. Both Monica and Grey watch as she very carefully reties her pigtails, just behind her ears. She carefully taps the bottoms of the strands, spreading them out and making them slightly poofier.

“Why do you do that?" Grey suddenly asks.

“Oh, don't you know?" April giggles.

“I don't know everything." Grey sighs, frustrated by her passive-aggressive insults.

April's smug grin fades at the look on his face, her heart burning and regret washing over her. She gulps and takes a breath, averting her eyes from him.

“Someone very special to me once said that they made me look cute... I like looking cute." She answers.

“Well, you do a good job." Grey replies.

Looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes scan his body before landing upon his face. Again, he wears a little grin, his warmth radiating over her. Her lips curl and their eyes lock, the pair sharing a little moment. With narrowed eyes, Monica looks between the too.

“If the princess is done playing with her hair, can we please get fucking moving?" She calmly yet sternly demands.

“Sure! Let's get to walking, princess." Grey playfully teases April.

Returning to the road, the trio hike for several hours. It's a pleasant walk, with a gentle breeze, birdsong and Grey's humming breaking the silence of the forest that surrounds the old road.

“You know hard times, is just an old friend, just an old friend to me. I said hard times, just an old friend, just an old friend to me. Tell me now, old friend, oh, when you gonna let me be? Can't you feel a cold wind howlin' down, blowin' my song? Can't you feel a cold wind is howlin' down, blowin' my song? Well, I ain't an old man, but you know my time ain't long. Gonna be a hard rain. You can hear it in the distance, it sounds so near. Gonna be a hard rain. Can't you hear it in the distance? It sounds so near. People, when the rain comes, it's gonna wash us all away from here." He begins to sing aloud, matching the harmony of his previous humming.

April listens intently, watching Grey as he sings to himself as if no one was around to listen.

“Mean old woman, people won't you tell me where can she be? Mean old woman, people won't you tell me where can she be? She's the only woman that ever meant a damn to me. You know hard times is just an old friend, just an old friend to me. I said hard times, just an old friend, just an old friend to me. Tell me now, old friend, when you gonna let me be? Tell me now, old friend, when you gonna let me be? Tell me now, old friend, when you gonna let this poor man be?" He continues.

“Are those the words, or did you make that up?" She asks.

“Those're the words." He swiftly replies. “I couldn't ever forget them."

“Hm... I can relate to that song." April murmurs.

“Me too." He adds.

Glancing over his shoulder, Grey looks back at April. The pair share a little smile.

“Company!" Monica warns them.

Looking ahead, Grey and April see a group of people approaching them. Four Voeldahn wear flowing robes and lead donkeys over the aging street, a few old rifles slung over their shoulders and across their backs. Seeing the trio, the group of robed beings stop in their tracks.

“Privyet, Pooteshestvenyki!" Grey shouts.

Both April and Monica are flabbergasted. He seems to know the language of the merchants. A language common in a foreign land, an enemy of the country that was once the United States of America, the merchant tribes, often collectively calling themselves the 'Guild of Travelers', adopted the language. A tactical choice, for their own safety and secrecy, many are fluent, though it's always been a second language after English. It was already rarely heard in these lands before The Ending, and now they're the only group who keeps it alive. The merchants breathe a sigh of relief, approaching the trio without fear.

“Privyet!"

The tallest of the group, a man with a deep voice, shouts back as the two parties draw near each other. In a matter of moments, April, Monica and Grey stand before the four Voeldahn. Two are feline, while one is a mouse with a furless tail, hands, and clawed feet wearing hand-stitched leather sandals. The others wear Voeldahn moccasins. Of the three, one of the cat people is a woman with a slender figure, while the female mouse is exceptionally voluptuous. The fourth, the one who shouted, is a tall and muscular stallion. They greet Grey and his female companions with pleasant smiles and waves.

“It's good to see friendly faces." The cat man says with a delighted sigh.

“And one's a human! How exotic!" The cat woman exclaims.

“And a handsome one at that." The mouse girl remarks, eying Grey in front of the others.

“Nice to meet you too." Grey coos, looking her over in kind.

“Easy, furless." Monica mutters.

“They're not a threat." He chuckles, looking back at her.

“Are you merchants too?" The stallions asks.

“Nyet." Grey shakes his head. “Miy skromniye pooteshestvenyki."

“But you speak Roosk!" The stallion suddenly looks worried.

“Da... Rasslab'tes! Ya obshayoose S' druz'yamy." Grey speaks with a warm smile.

“Oh... Horlosho." The stallion nods. “I'm Quaid. This is Maya, my wife." He rests a hand on the cat woman's shoulder. “Her brother, Kindle, and our friend, Havana."

“Those are some... Interesting names." April smirks.

“They're traveling names. They pick them out when they're ready to walk the roads; it's customary to use them with newcomers and business associates." Grey explains.

“Well, you certainly know about the Travelers!" Havana remarks.

“I've been around a few roads." Grey coolly replies, inching closer.

“We're not merchants, per se, but we're peaceful... Ish." Monica begins, grabbing Grey's arm and halting his advance. “I'm Monica, this is Grey, and that's Ap... Er... Apria..."

“... Apria?" April repeats.

She slowly turns her head, looking at Monica. Monica doesn't even acknowledge her, though the Travelers are clearly unnerved by the obvious attempt at concealing the white tigress' identity.

“Ooookay..." Kindle murmurs.

Havana, however, seems preoccupied. She steps closer to Grey, her eyes narrowed and lips curled into a lustful grin.

“Grey... That sounds like a traveling name." She remarks.

“Perhaps." Grey replies.

“It's so... Mysterious." She adds.

“I'm mystery, even unto myself."

“Oh, please." Monica rolls her eyes.

“That's sexy." She coos.

“So! ... We're heading south, along this road. I see you're heading north." Maya begins.

“Indeed." Grey murmurs.

“How're the roads looking?" Quaid asks.

“The roads? Oh... When you get to the fork about twenty miles that way, stay to the right. It takes you out of the way by about a day and a half, but it's a higher pass; the left route is blocked. That storm fucked it all up. We had to climb our way through it. If not for that, we'd be a few days ahead; you never would've seen us." Grey explains.

Monica looks toward Grey, but maintains her composure. Why is he lying to them about the roads? They didn't walk the route he claimed, finding April on the mountain pass.

“Well, lucky for us it did." Havana coos.

“Damn... I was hoping not to have to stretch our rations." Quaid sighs.

“Hey, you'll make it to a little village before you starve. Bezopasniye pooteshestviyakh."

“Bezopasniye pooteshestviyakh." The Travelers repeat back.

“Maybe we'll meet again?" Havana poses.

“We can only hope." Grey winks.

A flushing Havana joins her friends, who continue their journey and pass the trio. She's the only one who looks back as they walk along the road, seeing the waving Grey as he stands with his companions, watching them leave.

“We didn't come from that way. We came from where you just sent them." Monica remarks.

“I know. There are bandits waiting for people on the road they wanted to take." Grey replies, watching the distant caravan.

“Let me guess..." Monica sighs.

“Don't start." He holds up a hand. “Let's just keep going."

Without saying another word, Grey begins walking along the road, continuing the journey northward. Several tense minutes pass as Monica and Grey seem to share a bit of animosity. April, for reasons unknown to her, feels the need to clear the air and break the silence.

“So, let's say that this 'voice' isn't bullshit and there really are bandits on that road... Why'd you warn them?" April asks.

“Because it was the right thing to do."

“So?" April snickers. “Who're they to you?"

“People... They're people, and there's enough rape and murder in this world, don't you think?" Grey glances back, glaring at her.

“Whatever..." She murmurs.

“That girl..." Monica remarks.

“Which one?" Grey asks.

“Don't play stupid, you slick bastard." Monica smirks.

“Oh! Havana!" Grey flashes a toothy grin.

“Yes, Havana... You were laying it on pretty thick there, partner."

“Yeah, well... I'm a friendly guy."

“Maybe a little too friendly... You should be careful of the holes you squeeze into." April snickers.

“Flirting doesn't mean I'm going to fuck her, okay? She was cute, but so are you and Precious, over there. I'm not above flirting."

“In my experience, it usually goes waaay beyond that, if given the opportunity." April retorts.

“Same." Monica nods.

“Really? Huh... Then I must be doing it wrong." He winks, looking back at the girls.

“Clearly... And don't call me that, furless." Monica smiles.

Walking in silence for several more minutes, Grey begins to hum that same song. April looks to the sky, knowing that they're taking the long way. She looks toward Grey, feeling comfort in his presence. Her heart burns for him in a way that's almost foreign to her, but she cannot forget her daughter. Though the product of a violent sexual assault against another human man, Augustine isn't a bad girl. Recalling how she'd forced Augustine to shoot a man dead, and how she stole and threatened her own mother, April begins to feel terrible guilt for her actions. She doesn't want her child to suffer for her misdeeds, and this trip is taking too long.

“Are we really going to Coalton? This is a long road." She asks.

“We are." Grey replies.

“It'd be faster to cut through the woods and take the southern road. This one is shaped like a crescent." April explains.

“I know. You just need to come in from the north. Don't worry..." He glances back once more, a warm smile across his bearded face. “Augustine's fine. We can spare the time."

“How can you be sure?"

“I just can. She's fine, April. I promise." He assures her.

“Don't say that..." April growls.

“Say what?" He raises a brow in confusion.

“Don't say 'I promise' when you really can't. I fucking hate that!" April screams, her sapphire eyes glowing with an icy rage.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, but she's okay, and you'll reach her in time." He assures her.

Looking over the human, he holds out a hand to her, his palm forward and fingers toward the sky. Realizing her rage at what was an honest mistake, she looks him over and feels tremendous guilt. Something about his face and his tone; he seems to radiate innocence. It draws on her heartstrings, which are already weaving thoroughly around him.

“I... I'm sorry... I shouldn't have snapped." April apologizes.

“It's alright. No harm done. Let's keep going." He speaks softly, smiling warmly and resting a hand upon her shoulder.

April looks up at him, smiling back. She burns wonderfully from his touch. Releasing her, Grey takes the lead once more and the two women follow behind, Monica off to the side, her carbine rifle perpetually trained on April.

“Well, now I know what to say when I'm ready; I can claim self-defense." Monica teases her.

“You wouldn't survive it." April boasts, grinning smugly.

“Maybe not, but I'll take you down with me, bitch." Monica smirks back.

“Easy girls. Don't make me wrestle the both of you into submission." He chuckles.

April flushes beneath her fur, imagining the thought and nearly arousing herself. Monica giggles, quipping something perverse in return, though Grey doesn't bother with a response. After walking for some time, dusk approaches. Heading into the woods, Grey walks deeper than he did the previous day. They make camp and Grey cooks their food for them. Though his pack is much lighter now, with much of their supplies missing, he doesn't seem phased. Monica is somewhat more concerned, voicing her opinion, though Grey casually dismisses it. “We'll make do" He says without a hint of worry. Seated near him as he heats the cans, April can't help but stare.

She's so taken by the man, one of the few who's ever been nice to her or given her things without her using fear as a motivator. April's never been a slut – not once did she resort to prostitution to feed or protect herself – instead she's used violence to achieve every goal she'd sought after. However, here's a man who's both strong and giving, kind yet firm, protective but also easygoing. He's so much like Sniper that it startles her. She'd never saw Sniper as anything but a father figure, even when she physically matured and became a sexual being. Grey is a different story. More and more, he appears to be her fantasy lover made real.

Monica looks over to Grey, watching him prepare their food as she guards the camp with the Cobray CM-11. From her peripheral vision she sees April, just to his side and seated with her legs drawn toward her chest, her arms enveloping them. April, the murderous leader of one of the most feared gangs that had ever roamed the wasteland, watches the human with a childlike infatuation, as though he were her first crush. The contrast of her past with her almost juvenile behavior around him is genuinely disturbing to Monica. However, she says nothing, instead, watching them carefully as they prepare to sleep.

As before, Grey sits up and guards April from Monica. He doesn't even attempt to hide it, sitting beside April as she lay on his bedroll, which he'd once again given her. Sleeping with her back against his leg, April suffers nightmares, as she does most nights. Awakening to him comforting and assuring her of her safety, as he'd done the previous night, April rolls onto her back and looks up at him.

“See? You're safe, April. No one's going to hurt you." He assures her.

“I wasn't dreaming about being in danger. I was dreaming about all of the things I'd done." April closes her eyes. “Sometimes... I terrify myself."

“You've had it rough; no one's saying you haven't, but deep down, I don't think you're a bad person. Everyone can change."

“Can they?"

Slowly rising from the ground, Grey pulls back, giving her room as she sits up beside him. She looks to him, staring into his eyes.

“Do you know what I was going to do to you, if you'd never got out of that cell?" She asks in an eerie monotone, her eyes cold.

“I have an idea." He responds.

“I'd have strapped you down. I'd have used you. I'd have ridden your cock so hard, you'd think it was going to snap off."

“Alright then..." His eyes grow wide.

“The last human I had... He had dark flesh, like Trapper. I never fucked him, but I made the pain last as long as I could... Eventually, you'd have probably suffered the same fate, right around the time I couldn't find pleasure in you anymore, or if I became pregnant again." She continues.

“That's not you, April." He insists.

“Isn't it? Doesn't it scare you? ... It scares me." She replies, her cold facade crumbling and her eyes welling with tears.

“You've done awful things, but you can do good things too!" He assures her, resting his hands gently on her upper arms. “You've got a good heart and soul in there; I can see it in there." He softly presses a fingertip against her chest.

April looks down at his hand, sniffling.

“I-I..." She stammers.

“I know it hurts, and I know you have your regrets, but you can't let them drag you down, April. You're better than that."

“... I love you!" April exclaims.

She looks up, tears streaming down her face as she stares at the dumbfounded human. With mouth agape, he's speechless. Her clawed hands take hold of his biceps, squeezing them firmly.

“I've never felt like this for anyone before." She leans in. “You make me feel so safe and cared for. You make me want to better myself. You're not like the other fuckers roaming around. You make me feel like I matter, like I'm more than just a pair of tits and a pussy. I love you, Grey!"

Planting a kiss upon his lips, her tail whips gleefully from side to side. Grey's hands slide down to her sides, inching toward her waist as he feels her tongue against his. With a subtle push, she's shocked as Grey backs away. Her eyes look him over; his breathing is heavier.

“What's wrong?"

“You don't really know me, April."

“I know all I need too." She replies.

“No, you don't. You don't really love me." He insists.

“Don't tell me how I feel!" She whimpers, her bottom lip quivering.

Seeing the pain in her eyes, a guilt-ridden Grey pulls her in for a hug. He strokes her back and nuzzles her cheek with his nose, smelling her fur. Even though it's not clean and she reeks of the wilderness, he does it anyway, and she enjoys it. Her arms cling tightly to his trunk, her nose brushing his face. April softly kisses his neck. He pauses and his fingers coil in response, which she feels on her back. Realizing that she's discovered something vital, she kisses again, then licks him; she does her best to seduce him. Again, Grey pulls away.

“I'm not staying with you April..."

“... What?" She asks with a little squeak.

Her voice has been stolen by a horror even more terrifying to her than her past; she won't get to keep Grey? She trembles at the thought.

“I'm helping you reach your daughter, but I can't go with you. Monica and I have to keep heading south." He replies.

April can see the dichotomy written all over his face. He clearly struggles with rejecting her.

“Please... Stay with me. Coalton's a good town, and when I take it back, you can be with me! ... We can lead it together as lovers!"

“Don't. Tempt. Me." He growls, shutting his eyes tightly. “You don't know how badly I want to say 'yes' to you, but I can't. I can help you reach Coalton, but the rest is on you. We have to go south."

The look on his face breaks April's heart. Whether she truly loves him or not, it doesn't change the fact that he's one of the few people on this planet whose feelings actually matter to her. As much as it pains her, April resigns herself to loosing Grey as soon as they see the walls of Coalton. The thought makes her want to break down into tears, and she nearly does, but for his sake, she holds herself together.

“You need sleep." He murmurs.

“Hold me... Please."

Grey nods and then shifts, lying on his side. April turns around, pressing her back into his chest and her butt against his groin. Her ears prick and her eyes widen when she feels the firmness of his erection trapped within his pants. It makes her feel quite nice to know that he truly desires her, yet he has the strength to hold off; somehow, it makes him even more desirable.

“Oooh..." She coos, noticing the length and girth of the hard member in his pants. “I didn't know you had another gun on you." She teases.

“Yeah, that's where I keep my eight-inch, Dan Wesson." He smirks.

“If you want to let off a few rounds, I can be quiet..." She presses.

“You're making this harder."

“I know." She grins lustfully, pushing her butt against his crotch.

“Heh... You know what I meant."

Leaning in, Grey kisses her cheek, before urging her to sleep. She presses her perfect buttocks against him, but he moves back an inch, disappointing her. She's never encountered a man with such willpower, but she respects him for it, though she's still disappointed. With his arm around her waist, and his nose on her shoulder, they sleep peacefully, and April doesn't struggle through a single nightmare. Once again, they both awaken before Monica, who lay sprawled out on her back and softly snoring. Grey immediately begins to prepare breakfast; at a glance, he has only a few cans left in his pack.

“Grey."

“Yeah?"

“I'm sorry, for everything I ever did to you... Including last night." April apologizes.

“It's alright. I'm not mad, about any of it. Chicken or beef?" He asks with a smile.

“Chicken."

“Damn... Lucky; you get the last one."

Her tail swishes as she smiles back, swiftly hiding her face by bowing her head. She can't contain her emotions around him, and his generosity consistently warms her heart. Monica awakens to the smell of cooking food, never realizing the moments that April and Grey had shared during her slumber. After eating, they pack up the camp and continue their journey, following the road. They stop at a stream that flows through a culvert, filling their canteens and drinking their fill, only to continue the march. April begins to recognize familiar landscapes, and by early afternoon, the smoke from the chimneys of occupied homes is visible in the distance.

April's heart sinks into the pit of her stomach at the thought of leaving Grey, but she still must rescue her daughter and reclaim what's rightfully hers. She'd rebuilt Coalton, and the people there are under her command; they've merely forgotten. April steps past Grey, who looks intently at the road ahead. Turning to face him, she intends to embrace him, perhaps making one final plea to keep him with her.

“The hell?!" Monica gasps.

To April's shock, she turns around to see the grip of Grey's Kahr CT9 pistol pointed at her. He grips the weapon by the barrel, presenting the weapon to her.

“What're you doing?!" Monica asks in horror.

“She needs this." He calmly answers.

“Grey, I..." April's voice freezes in her throat.

“And these too..."

With his other hand, he presents two spare magazines, each loaded with eight rounds of 9x19mm Parabellum, the weapon's capacity. Taking the firearm, she checks the magazine in the weapon and pulls back the slide a fraction of an inch. The weapon's fully loaded and ready to fire. Her clawed fingers caress his palms as she collects the spare magazines, her hand freezing, hovering over his for a moment. Eventually, she slowly pulls her hand away, slipping them into her pocket, now with a total of twenty-five rounds now in her possession.

“I can't believe you're giving her a gun..." Monica grumbles.

“I'll find another." He retorts.

“Oh, like you're just going to find another gun on the roadside... Or ammo!"

“I have my ways." He smiles, his gaze ever focused on April.

A speechless April, looks at the weapon, then into Grey's eyes.

“Please come with me." She whimpers.

“You know I can't." He shakes his head. “You'll be alright, April. I have faith in you."

Approaching her, he takes her into his arms, holding her tightly. April returns the embrace, clinging to him as a small child clings to their mother.

“We'll meet again... I promise." He whispers into her ear.

“Don't say that if you can't keep it." She sniffles. “I hate that."

“I don't make promises that I can't keep... Ever. We will meet again." He insists.

“Alright then."

Monica is flabbergasted by the sight. April appears about to cry, and Grey is even warmer than usual.

“You need to go... Save Augustine."

Nodding her head, a teary-eyed April reluctantly leaves the pair. She steps back from Grey, the pistol in hand. After walking back nearly ten feet, she turns and jogs down the road, her tail and pigtails flailing. Monica approaches Grey, looking to him as he lowers his head.

“Did you... Care about her?" She asks.

“I care about everyone." He answers.

“That's not what I meant..." Monica murmurs.

Grey turns his head, shifting his eyes to look at her. Turning around, his back faces the now distant April. With a wave of his hand, he motions to Monica before heading back from whence they came.

“Come on, precious... We need to move south."

“Alright, furless..." Monica replies.

She takes a few steps, but glances back over her shoulder. She can't help but wonder what'll become of April without them to help.

“I'm coming, Augustine... I'll get you back or die trying, I promise, and I don't make promises I can't keep." April says as she jogs.