The interior of the hall was no less impressive than the outside - a stark opposite to the dilapidated, decayed abodes out in the swamp. A long, wooden table and the fresh wooden paneling filled the air with a comfortable, homy scent of pine. A tall stair at the end of the hall led up to a second floor of rooms of utility, whereas the lower sets of rooms had been explained as ‘lodgings’ for the travelers and the restless - the former of which they had few of.

Luna could see why that was, as the hellish trek through the mire still brought tears to her eyes when she imagined she’d actually have to return over there. Logan sat next to her with his hood at his back and the mask atop the table, resting his hand on his chin while muttering obscenities. His disfigured face of shark teeth and the black eye was something of an attraction - she could understand why that bothered him, but was still unaware as to what Logan’s connection to this mysterious place was.

Mystery stew of vegetables, roots and meats was devoured in complete silence, save for the moans of someone copulating somewhere inside the warm building. Logan had continuously drummed his fingers impatiently and thrown longing glances at his mask, as if waiting for the time when he could finally put it on. But the playful grin of their host atop his large, wooden throne at the end of the table spoke of this being a part of a plan to draw amusement from what he referred to as ‘his boy’.

Abraham was captivated by a girl on Jorn’s side - the most beautiful lady he’d ever seen. She was a couple of years older than him, by his estimation, which only confirmed his suspicion that he preferred it that way. Her hair had been bundled at the back of her head, while braids hung down nearly touching the empty bowl of soup. She had the same color of hair as the beautiful Luna and Logan - the same color as her fingerless gloves and the tight, deep-cleaved short leather shirt she wore. Several times, he had found his eyes wandering down to those beautiful bulbs of supple flesh, only to see her grin a wide, white smile back at him.

As she sat, he had caught a glimpse of some of her more intimate skin due to wearing the shortest, white skirt he had ever seen - barely covering anything, though none seemed to make a deal out of it.

“All right. All finished?” Jorn did not speak loudly, yet his voice carried through the room as if he had been roaring. Logan’s hand immediately darted for the mask, only for Jorn to raise his voice and shout: “Don’t you put that there mask on, boy! Not in your home!” Logan’s hand froze mid-air. He sighed and returned the hand to Luna’s thigh.

“Jorn, not everyone’s used to seeing my f-”

“The hell you call me!?” Jorn stood up and glared a fierce, strict glare down the table - obviously making a point. Logan crossed his arms, shook his head, sighed and corrected: “Not everyone’s used to seeing my face, Pa!” Jorn’s lips split apart in his commonplace grin - obviously satisfied with the correction. He sat back down again and motioned for the girl at his side: “Well, das your fault, ain’t it? Your sister ain’t seen you in two years!” The Ghast looked to his ‘sister’ and raised a greeting hand, only for her to enthusiastically wave down at him.

“Well, Pa, I would’ve come sooner, but I was busy. I did write. The symbiote-” A single tap of a long, yellow fingernail against the wood warned Logan that he was treading on dangerous ground again.

“The damn backmonster called me back to the ocean. This is Luna.” Logan motioned to his left, where Luna sat wide-eyed and confused to hear Logan talk so oddly - nearly as unintelligible as Jorn himself. Jorn formed a tense o-shape with his lips and his bushy eyebrows bounced up and down.

“Luna? Yo love? That Luna?” Logan nodded, flopping his honey-blonde locks.

The old man rose promptly from his seat and strode around the table, where he sternly gripped Luna by her shoulders and pressed her back against the chair. From up-close, she could smell a stinging scent of perfumed alcohol. He leaned in close and loudly sniffed her shoulder before rising up to exhale slowly.

“Mire’s mirth, she smells good. She one of us, all right. Ain’t no wonder you rode on through without stopping to say hi to your ol’ Pa - I’d do the same if I had this lil filly waiting for me by the sea, hot damn.” To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement, but as he rubbed his thumbs on her shoulders, she found herself unable to move. With eyes of desperation, she looked over to her companion to see him wince with a discomfort of his own.

While still massaging her shoulders, he continued: “It all makes sense now - I heard them screams for help, too. Boy, I thought you was lying when you were talking about sea-people - we all did.” Even when he was seemingly in the wrong, the old man continued to grin.

“Wouldn’t have minded the help, old man. We holed up to the southwest - Anza. There was a-” Before Logan could launch off into another long-winded tale, his sister at the far end of the table stood up and raised an accusing finger towards her supposed brother and shouted: “Ain’t no talk about business ‘round the table! You leave that by the door!”

Logan questioned why he hadn’t brought the girl with her, as without his influence, she’d become a spitting image of Jorn, at least as far as her weird mannerisms were concerned. He raised an apologetic hand and went on to explain: “I took Abraham and Luna with me. I need you to show them each the ropes - like you did with me.” Jorn puckered his lips to sound a continuous ‘ooo’-ing, glancing at the apprentices in turn.

“You ain’t taken the other kids ‘round here before, boy. You lost faith in yourself, son? Don’t think you got what it takes to teach ‘em how to handle swords and guns?” Logan impatiently tapped the table.

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“It ain’t like that, Pa… I need them to be as good as me - or better. We’re going for that Hive.”

“Oh, you treadin’ water now, bro, you real close to pissin’ me off!” The sister spoke from the end of the table.

On any other day, Jorn might’ve rubbed his chin ponderously, but on the occasion he was far too satisfied with servicing Luna’s shoulders to look away from his eager hands.

“For ten years, I’ve listen to your complainin’ about your trainin’ - now you want me to do the same for yo boy and wife?” Logan resisted the urge to roll his eye and again tapped the table with impatience.

“I don’t know how mind-magic works. And I’ve lost a lot of good men who I’ve instructed…” Logan trailed off and glared his oddly eyes up at the old extravagant. Luna felt as if a whole conversation passed between them in the form of strict glares and grunts.

“What do you mean by complaining? Logan, what does that mean?” She asked cautiously. The hands on her shoulders were beginning to unnerve her more with every passing second, which had her look for aid in the direction of the lovestruck Abraham, only to see him dreamily gazing at the excitable girl.

Logan stood with his arms folded outside the reeking latrine. On the steps next to the door of the dining hall, Jorn still glared back at him. Logan could certainly see why his father-figure was irked with his sudden appearance with a request, but if anyone could relate and understand, he knew it to be Jorn and the rest of the Longmirians. They were, after all, a people of eternal war - battling the ceaseless waves of Monstrum from the local hive.

As much as Logan hated to admit to it, the cold evening’s reeking air and the white smoke clamoring to the mire had let him lower his shoulders in a manner he had not experienced since last he had visited Longmire.

For all its fault and for all its torturous memories - this was home.

“L-Logan, Sir… my stomach - I can’t stop shitting.” Abraham whined from behind the latrine.

“Get it all out, boy. You didn’t have a lot of the root, but you had a dose - don’t worry about the blood, it should be self-limiting.” He winced as he heard that Jorn’s accent lingered in his speech; an accent he had been forced to adopt. Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to resist… from the moment he had relented to calling his Master ‘Pa’, the transformation had ran its own course.

“I’m gonna kill you, Logan!” Luna’s voice screamed from inside the latrine, itself. He scratched the back of his head, surprised the symbiote hadn’t done more to detoxify her colon. But as much was typical for it - it seemed incapable of understanding the human gastric system.

“Right… well, this might not be the perfect time for it, but time’s short and there’s some things I need to tell you about Jorn before I leave.”

A lengthy pause followed before she spoke her most determined words to date: “You’re not leaving me here. Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He drew a long breath of the cold air and took comfort in their handicapped state to look across the foggy landscape.

“Smile hasn’t told me yet, but she says it’s vital I come with her. Governor’s orders. Besides, I’ll get in the way of your training if I stay here - you’ll be out there for the most part.” Another pause followed.

“Smile? You and Smile are going out frolicking around? Let me see if I get this straight: we just met after ten years. And then you’re immediately going to leave me with some weird guy that insists you call him your dad? Oh - and the one you’re leaving with most definitely wants to fuck you; I forgot to add that.” There was a hint of annoyance in her voice, but that might also have been the pain.

He pondered the situation. He could see how this would upset her, but he had made the mission statement clear several times over. In his mind, he had even prepared her for it by stating things like ‘you’ll be training’ and ‘this will be hard for you’. Thinking back, he could see how she had likely misunderstood this as a pattern-of-speech problem. But how does a man act in such conditions? How was he to disarm her of her irk?

“That about covers it, yeah.” He landed on honesty and plasticity.

“Right. That’s what I thought. I hope you and Smile have a good trip - I and Abraham are going back to Anza.” She spoke drily and matter-of-factly.

“P-Please, L-Luna, I can’t go back out there. I’d rather shit my guts out…” Abraham whined from behind the latrine.

“We’re not going back out there, Abe. I was trying to make a point - you see how I could be upset, can’t you!?” She shouted.

“Y-yeah, I d… I do. But I like t-them. They look n-nice and i-if I can l-learn to be useful to Logan… if I can learn to kill Monstrum… I’ll do this every night of the week.” Logan made a note to ruffle the boy’s head when the opportunity arose - preferably after a wash, which he knew to be weeks away.

Luna sighed. “And this has got nothing to do with Logan’s sister’s massive honkers?” A moment’s silence ensued in which Logan shared in the boy’s misery.

She continued: “Fuck, when you say it like that… The bitch’s ice cold - this won’t end badly, will it?” Logan shook his head before remembering that he was alone out there.

“No, it will not. I’ll be fine - I’m still not sure why Smile and the Governor want me there, but they’re rarely wrong alone. Together, I don’t think it’s possible they could be.” A moment’s hesitance followed before Luna went on to ask: “D’you think it’s gonna be dangerous?” He considered the question. Danger was a relative thing - walking across the mire was dangerous. Walking up a stair with a blade in hand was dangerous… going for a cloak-and-dagger mission to survey a farming community?

“It would be more dangerous if I had the two of you with me with your current skill. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that a unit is only as strong as its weakest warrior. I’m sorry, but I can’t lose any more men. I can’t lose you.”

Abraham understood that this was not a direct reference to him, but he enjoyed Logan saying it nonetheless. It made him feel as if he was worth something, despite his many flaws and failures. But that brief, passing joy fell apart as another bout of diarrhea threatened to tear him apart.

“God damnit, why’d you have to say it like that?” Luna sighed, both appreciating and hating his utilitarian approach to life at that moment. Even when he was in this mood, he was charming.

“You’d better not touch that bitch.”