Day 010: Funeral Arrangements
Summary: Grey has an offer for the Grounders, but wants something in return.
Date: 17 May 2016
Related: None directly, but precedes Here Cometh Four Horsemen.
Grey Wren 

Somewhere on the outskirts of Coesbur
Day 10 After Landing

Waking up on an actual bed — even if it's a pallet — with an actual pillow and blanket, is amazing. Still, there's never enough sleep after two days up, and so Grey is rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands as he comes out of the Hall. He is an oddity in the village, an actual Skaikru, and so he gets a lot of looks as he moves around, trailed by a watcher. His fellows have already gone to meet their mounts for the trip back to the dropship, but Grey has one more thing to do. Finally spotting a familiar face, he lifts a hand, calling out, "Wren Come Trikru." He still doesn't have that pronunciation quite down, but at least he's trying, right?

Wren is…watching. As a fighter and warrior, a job is guard duty. And after seeing that he's more or less no worse for wear, has gone back to his duties at the perimeter of the village. No longer carrying the weapon he had during the attack, he now hefts a rather large axe over his shoulder, the keen suggestion that it's weight is not exactly an issue for him. "/kom/ Trikru." he corrects neutrally. "What is it?" he then grunts, still getting over the fact that suddenly he's not supposed to kill him. But Oxfor's word is Oxfor's word.

Grey nods slightly in reaction to the correction, frowning thoughtfully as he tries to lock it into place. "I meant to tell someone. Put the offer out. I don't know what Grounders do with their dead. Once we get this dealt with, if you'd like, I'll lead your people to where we hid the bodies of the dead. From the rescue." They may not need the help, being better trackers and hunters than the Skaikru, but he puts the offer out there anyhow.

"We burn them upon pyres." Wren replies after a moment of thought, perhaps mulling over the idea of it. Gideon would be the better person to ask, she's the one that shows more interest in these Sky People. "The fact that you're here is enough, you showed some courage by doing the right thing. In that, I'll repay in kind." There's clearly another reason that's on his mind, left unsaid. "I will bring enough men to take back ours, I'll assume you'll do the same for yours."

Grey nods at the point of information offered up, but the compliment, as warily given as it might be, causes him to shrug a little uncomfortably, "I'm just tryin' to do what's right for my people." The counter-offer causes a little tension to run out of his shoulders, "You know where Perry and Rees are?" The two dead Delinquents from the ambush. "I promised myself I'd see them buried."

"They were hung as panther bait." Wren states simply, though the way he says is perhaps slightly sympathetic. That moment passes, continuing on. "They should still be there, unless the wild has claimed them." Giving a whistle, he says something in his native language, four other men, joining with them. "We will go, Grey of the Sky People. Retrieve our fallen." That said, he begins moving for the horses. "Another will show you where yours is. I would not know." Of course he wouldn't, he wasn't there to see them strung up.

The answer drops Grey's jaw open, his eyes widening in some combination of shock, horror, and outrage. Such is his shock, in fact, that it takes him a good thirty seconds to actually get words out of his mouth, "Panther bait?" His mouth works, his fists clench, and then unclench, "God damn it." The words are quiet, despite the emotion behind them. Blowing a breath out his nose, he nods, "I'll come back up here. After," he gestures towards where the horses wait to take the steheda and the three Delinquents back to the dropship, "When we start talking. I'll come back to show you where they were put. Could you find out where Perry and Rees are? Or find me someone who knows?"

Wren watches the expression impassively on Grey's face. Whatever he thinks, he's quiet about it. But the request gets an answer, as he switches back to the four with him, speaking to them against in his native tongue. A tile of hte head one of the men. "He knows where they are. He will show you were to go, how to get there." Another nod then. "Agreed. We will wait til then."

Grey nods slowly, "I… I didn't like moving them. But we needed to buy some time." And then he pauses, and disbelief flickers across his face again, "Panther bait, man? That's just cold." His brows draw together, "It's a good thing that we don't go in for the whole Juice Train Juice Dawn," He's… really not good at Trigedasleng, even something he's heard as often as 'Blood must have blood.' "Or that'd be a real problem for getting a peace."

"You don't need to explain yourself." Wren says with a look at Grey. "What has been done, has been done. If Oxfor sees potential in you, then that is what he has decided. If he hadn't decided that, we would not be speaking right now." His attempt at his language draws out a soft chuff that might be a snort in humor. Then a nod. "Yes, it would be, wouldn't it. Fortunately, as it stands, it is not the case."

Snorting at the laughter in response to his attempt at speaking another language, Grey says, "Hey man, I bet you can't say antidisestablishment — " he pauses, thinking, " — arianism. Yeah, that's it." Shrugging helplessly, he rests his hands on his hips, "You don't see potential in making peace then?"

"Neither can you, it seems." Wren notes, again humored. "Word sounds like a disgusting soup left out for a week." The matter of peace, he shrugs. "I would rather leave you and your people alone, peace or not. Simply put, you Sky People are not worth the trouble of killing. You, your people bring problems upon us. If you prove yourselves, that may change. You, at least, have some semblance of sense. What you and the two others did is the smartest thing you've done thus far. If the rest of your are that smart. That remains to be seen."

Grey shakes his head, "Nope. I can't. Some fancy word the nerds were always talkin' about." He pauses a moment, thinking, "Rebel-ness? Or something like that." And then they're onto a more serious subject, and Grey listens intently, "Don't be so quick to judge me well. I also planned the rescue." He pauses, then admits, "As much as anyone did. It was pretty seat-of-our-pants. And we'd have been fine being left alone. Perfectly fine, as long as there's enough room in the area for that when the Arkers come down."

"Not for me to decide. I'm told to kill, I kill." Wren remarks. "I was told not to kill the Sky People for now, I will not kill them. It is by Oxfor's word alone that you live. And only that. Maybe things will change, maybe they won't, we will see." Some words to the men with them and they disperse, for now. "I do not hate you, Grey of the Sky People. I have no time for it. There is only one among you that is reserved for, but that will be delbt with in time."

Grey points across to the larger Grounder, "And that's what I was bein' trained to do. Follow orders, snap to. That's the best thing about Earth so far though… if someone tells you to do something, you can tell them to screw off." Again, the helpless little shrug, "At least, for now." The mention of hatred reserved for one of the Sky People causes him to narrow his eyes, "Let's be clear, Wren," he hesitates a moment, trying to get the name right, "kom Trikru. I think you're funnier than you let on. I might even like you if given time, but if someone kills one of my people, the Juice Train is on."

"Your people lack…closeness. You have many minds and even more opinions. Like so many birds, you don't sing in unison. Like crows. Annoying. Things try to take my black ball. Dirty things." Wren frowns at that, more at the birds than his description of the delinquents. "I have no grudge against you. If I did, you'd know. For all of what you did, you had reason. One I would not of understood had I not been at your…camp. But.." his face hardens. "One of yours killed my little sister. I don't want you, your people, or even your camp. Just…him. He will be armed, awake, and ready. And he may kill me. But that will be the end of it. My grudge is not my people's grudge."

Grey starts to protest the description of the camp, then just shrugs, perhaps in grudging agreement. When the large man's voice hardens, however, Grey tenses… until Wren explains. Letting out a breath, he nods a little, "Except for a few, there aren't any brothers or sisters up there." A thumb jerks up toward the sky, and the Ark that is theoretically above them, "But I think I get that." Grey sucks at his teeth for a moment, considering, "Hey… promise me one thing? That you'll talk to him before you call him out? Don't care what about, don't care how long, just… talk first. Then fight."

It's clear it's sitting on his mind pretty heavily. "Would explain much. You lack closeness. You lack family, Skaikru. But you certainly have practice at arguing like one." he ends. "It was easy to hear. But…" he studies the man, then stepping forward, large frame slightly ridig. "In the…what is the word? Effort to…'compromise'? I will /consider/ it. And that is all I can give. I will give no more until I can say goodbye to my sister."

Grey shifts back slightly as the larger man steps forward, maintaining his bubble of personal space before he straightens back up, closing the distance again, "Good enough for now." And then he offers out his right hand, "I'll be back after we get our baby-docs up there." There's a pause, "…I may have to come in quietly though. There's some folks who aren't gonna be happy about what we did, and they may not like me leavin' camp right away. But I'll manage."

"Unhappy that you spared them more death?" Wren looks puzzled. "I do not understand how you Skaikru manage survive fighting like you do with each other." he gestures an arm to the village whole. "I ask you if you see strife here. But that is a harsh question, isn't it? For now, the ground masters you. Should your group draw up the courage to master /it/, then…" he nods, perhaps to himself. A long, slow look at the hand. He considers heavily. "You hold potential, Grey of the Sky People. But you will not have peace with me until Lark is given proper rites." As if a second thought, he then adds, "However, you're doing better then the rest."

"Unhappy that I acted without all of them getting their say." Grey jerks a thumb toward the south, where the dropship sits, "We've only had to deal with each other without…" he shifts away from the word 'guards' to, "adults around for a week and a half. Bet your people were still making monkey shit fights at the zoo after a week and a half, just like mine are." When the hand is considered and then not taken, he just lets it drop to his side again, "And thanks." He considers a moment, and then, because he's never been particularly smart, adds, "Lark's a nice name. I'm sorry."

"Then it seems you will have a great deal of strife in your future. Good luck. Were you one of our people, you would be killed for such insolence." Wren states matter-of-factly. "Horse manure. Topped with a layer of blood and sprinkled with some bones. For an authentic feel." he quips. But the mention of his sister's name, something causes his brows to knit hard. "I do not ask for your pity. And you will not speak her name again." That's a rather sensitive issue now for him. Give him a couple days. Or a week. "I have decided that if your healers fail, that I will not look for you on the battlefield when would eventually attack. Don't alter that."

Grey snorts softly, his cocky nature showing through for a moment, "If I was one of your people, where things make sense, I'd be in charge by now. And that sounds nasty. Monkey shit at least just splatters." And then the subject he knew might be sensitive strikes home, and he shrugs, holding up his hands palm-out before him, "It's not pity, but alright. I'll take 'not hated' if that's the best I'm gonna do for now." He looks toward where the horses are prepared, his eyes narrowing warily, "Now, I get to go see if those things bite. I bet they do."

"I would view 'not hated' as a blessing." Wren views. "Other are less trusting." A glance to the horses. "They do if they don't like you. Also kick." Still, perhaps he can admire that view though in horses. "Temperamental animals. I call mine Roach." he offers at the black looking, heavier set horse. "But. Hate is easy for my people. It is…easy." There's something about the way he says that, that that fact may honestly annoy him, but he doesn't explain further. "You would have more talking with Gideon about these things." Pause. "Though I would be mindful of your nose."

Grey nods acceptance of the first point, then studies the horses sidelong as they're described, "Bite and kick. Got it." A little chuckle lifts from his throat, "Try livin' in a camp full of teenagers. Hate's real easy there." He blinks at the suggestion to talk to Gideon, cutting his eyes back to the big Grounder, and then reaches up to touch his nose, then laughs, tilting his head to still the still-fading bruise on his brow, "Naw. I headbutted her. To be fair, she was tryin' to jam her thumb in my throat at the time." There's a bruise there too, but much easier to see now that he's cleaned up with the village's plentiful water.

"Yes, that is how she flirts." Wren nods slowly, knowing full well if that joke gets back to her, he'll regret it later. But he can't help himself.. "She is far too interested in your people than her own good. She finds your technology…interesting." he adds to that, shaking his head. Coming up to his horse, who seems complacent on eating nearby weeds, he checks over the saddle. "Never stand behind a horse. They don't like it. They will kick." Looks like that bit of advice is for free. "Did you? If it left a bruise, you did so wrong. Crown of the head not…your face."

"Hey, she didn't get that player from us." So Grey knows about the music player. He takes the advice on horses readily enough, but snorts at the advice on headbutting, "Well yeah. Hell, my dad taught me to do that when I was thirteen. Squirmy little woman moved." If that description, particularly the 'little' part, gets back to Gideon, he might regret it later too. And maybe the squirmy part too, although he smirks particularly hard at it.

"I know. She obsesses over it." Apparently, Wren has first hand knowledge of Gideon's tech fetish. "And sometimes, she forgets her place in things. Her curiosity will anger others. I understand it, but, she needs to remember herself." There's something else he doesn't say. Maybe he's just leery. They were just fighting a couple days ago, so it's strange for him. "I see you too enjoy getting her goat." he observes. "With her, it's very easy. Perhaps too easy."

Grey beams his too-broad smile at the last observation, "We could really do with a goat. You really think I could get hers?" And then his laughter bubbles up his throat, and he shakes his head, "Yeah. She does seem to have some… anger issues…" Pot, kettle, black. Watching Oxfor appear and move over toward his Clydesdale-sized horse, Grey glances around the area once more, then raises his right hand to nibble at his thumbnail, "Welp. Guess it's time to see if I get bit." There's a pause, then he nods to the larger man, "Thanks. I'll be back as soon as I can to hold up my end of the bargain."

"You could only be so lucky, Grey of the Sky People." Wren notes with the same mostly dry tone he's had all the while. "Gideon is just as feisty as a panther. I have the scars to show for it." For some reason, he's put up with her all these years. Things friends do. "Don't catch the panther by it's tail unless you're will to get bit." A slow nod, backing away from the horse. "I'll be waiting til then."

Grey blinks at the response, hurriedly shaking his head and forcing his words out so fast that they tumble over one another, "Ohshit… I didn't mean that. I was joking about, you know, an actual goat." He steps back, giving Roach a wide berth, and quickly turning away to start over to where his own horse is. Aaaaand it's got two faces and three eyes. That draws him up for a moment before he shudders, shrugs, and approaches, "Not much weirder than a normal horse…" Keep lying to yourself, Grey.

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