Coin already in his hand by the time the other man approached. Same one that never knew how to get stolen. Never understood how to stay lost. Just always found its way back. Edge lost to notches Trevor'd started making after the third return. Eaten by Luck and time.

Could probably give it to Laric and it would help his quest. But the trinket would eventually swing back to Trevor again, as it always had. Worried what that meant for the other man.

But if Trevor went too...well, both ways were cursed. One just wasn't alone.

Nodded – more at the good than the morning. Because talk was the one place Trevor struggled to be small.

„You will not harm any of them. No matter how shit they are.“ It wasn't a question.
 
„Right.“ It wasn't easy to believe him or the ones that would come after. Not when so many had sat there and lied. Because it was easy to forget the consequence when you were getting what you wanted.

Ass swiveled around on the chair until he was looking straight at the blondie. Coin made its way from finger to fist. Elbows rested on knees, a hunched, tired creature.

Left opened first, heavy with the trinket.

„You can take this and see success in your search. Might be three weeks, may be two months – but you'll find all of them.“

The right was empty, holding only invitation.

„Or you can take me and see it done faster. Thing is, I can't walk for shit – so we'll need some way to move around.“

Both ways had rules and consequence. But at least he didn't need to steal choice today. A small win.
 
The ease of it all left Trevor stunned. That a man oncefucked would rush into another scam. And this was the same fucking thing, far as Laric knew. Some random fucker spinning yarns and wasting time. A slight upgrade from the previous model in the finger department. But that hardly improved the collage of bullshit he'd dredged through to get to that point.

Still held himself together and to only a single drink. Not that he'd need wits to navigate on horseback – horse already did all the hoofin'. But the other man had seen him drunk as a raspberry once. Wasn't an exercise he cared to repeat.

That's how Laric found him.

Didn't need to be told to know he couldn't climb the bigger animal. Simply stood next to the smaller one, engaged in diplomacy:

„If you bite me, I'll knife you.“

Wasn't sure if the other man heard him, but it hardly mattered. The words weren't for him. The next ones were.

„Help me up.“

Gods knew he wasn't much of a rider even in a fully functional state. And he was neither full nor functional.
 
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The perfect obedience continued. Almost like a chain forged of a man the ginger could no longer be. Did the blond bastard know who Trevor had been in the past? He did sometimes get these reactions, but they never spoke well of what was coming.

Perhaps it was Laric who wanted to scam Trevor? No. Trevor didn't have two shits to rub together. There would be no point.

Laric propped him up like it wasn't a big deal. That always stung. That when it came to physicality, he was basically a flea on a bigger animal's flank. But Luck had a sense of humor, and the other man struggled. Pain to growl to the mare mareing away. Didn't even have time to think or catch his balance. Just pushed himself off the beast's rump and to the side. Barely enough to avoid getting hoofed in the face.

What he didn't avoid was getting Tapaned in the tit. There were few places left unbruised – guess he could check chest off the list.

„How fucked's your arm?“ Growled into the road, as he rolled over to his back.

He could always get Jerry to help. An obvious, unappealing choice.
 
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Leading the way was a strange way to describe it. Cause Trevor had no idea where they were going. Only that each step knew where the next one should go. That each inch felt more correct than the last. Little by little, the sensation grew tangible. And he tried to share the knowing with his fourlegged companion, one small witherscratch at a time.

Only they were coming up on it too fast.

He'd excepted a day to pass at least. But no. The first one was in Havenby. Opposite end of town.

Because sometimes Luck was easy.

Hahahahaahah

A screech to scare the horse, and the shit out of the boys playing catch around the craters. The eightfingered fuck had something going for him. The first Anna really had been in Havenby.

„Seems like the gimped fuck wasn't all lies. Your first Anna is there.“ Nodded towards the house that'd seen better days. Shrapnel caught into the facade was simply being covered over. He'd seen it done before, when removal proved too expensive. Met plenty of fuckers with piercings – figured houses weren't exempt from painful fashion choices.

„Tell him you worked with his whoring father. He'll have questions.“
 
Trevor smiled at the omission. Because words meant things. But people were too busy being polite to care.

Wasn't aware he'd gestured at a particular boy, but he must've – cause Laric had chosen the right one. Boy had his father's grey eyes and the same dangling ears.

Boy turned around to the house and called out:

„Maaaark!“ Voice broke somewhere in the middle. „There's a guy here says he's looking for you.“
One of the men patching up the house came closer.
„I told you to start calling him dad.“ A female voice from inside the house.
„He aint my da'.“
„Boy, I'll box your ears.“ A different woman of the house.

Whoring left families scattered. But not all were taken to the wind. Some patched their holes and grew instead.

„What's your business?“ Mark seemed cautious as his eyes moved between Laric and Trevor, settling on the former.
 
The kids didn't seem to have picked up on anything, but Mark's face changed. Pointed his browns to the boy's greys.

„Get your moms.“
„Emilia is not...“
„Now, Adam. Both of 'em.“

Even as the conversation proper died there, the lil' guy still grumbled as he went.

„How did Kaelen, die?“ Mark didn't sound upset.
 
The familiar boy returned, trailed by two similar women. Both short, plump and brunette. Coulda been twins, save for the nose and eyebrows.

„Go play inside, kids.“ Mark continued, flat. „There's apple pie on the stove. You know how Lana makes it...“
„Oi, that's for tonight...“ one of the women started, but he squeezed her shoulder lightly. „If you find any bits of ceiling in the crust, don't eat that!“

The gaggle took the offer in stride, their giggles audible well into the door.

„Guy here says Kaelen died.“ All three of them had started holding hands at some point. Almost like a living wall between Laric and the fucked house. But there was no defense, only a soft defeat in their eyes.

„Did he... owe you money?“ Came from the lady of pies.
„Cause we're not paying for his shit.“ added the other. „Not again.“
„So?“ Mark's voice never rose, but his eyes moved to the weapons at Laric's waist.
 
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