( don't ◠ dead open inside. )

[hell_hound]

The men - boys, for all intents and purposes - had been walking for literal days through the undead-infested woods. Reniak was used to this type of thing. He’d never really had a permanent home before and preferred to travel on foot most distances. However, he hadn’t been able to look a literal gift horse in the mouth when they had stumbled upon a small farm and the two horses that had called it home. He had taken the silvery mare that had approached him from her fence and nibbled at his hand when he’d reached for her. Sonja, he had decided to call her.

However, that left an unruly chestnut stallion for his partner in crime, whom he had met only a couple of weeks ago when he had caught the idiot trying to steal his knives while Reniak rested. The two had decided it would be better if they teamed up rather than fight. There were so few living humans left that Reniak hadn’t the heart to kill another.

“Having a bit of trouble there?” Reniak asked. There was a hint of a smile on his face, but he lacked the humor in his voice - something his new friend still wasn’t used to.

River let out a foul sound at the beast trotting beneath him. The creature refused to follow commands. It did whatever it pleased whether it put River’s life in danger or not. Horses had never been his favorite animal; he much preferred cats. In a way he supposed his horse, Chester, was similar to a cat, but in the end he could pick up a cat and carry it should it become a liability. He couldn’t pick up a monster of this size and stature.

Not to mention the thing kept trying to romance Reniak’s horse every chance it got. Even if both riders were still in their saddles.

“Shut up. I hate this bloody animal,” snarled River. “I mean, I don’t actually hate it but if it doesn’t start listening to me I’m going to leave it for the zombies.”

“I have a feeling it would survive an entire horde just to spite you.”

River sighed. He had a feeling Ren was right.

The two continued onward through the woods, stopping only to rest a moment before dawn, until River’s keen sense of… whatever it was that made him such a good thief alerted him to the presence of a small house in the middle of the trees.

And of the woman standing hunched over in the doorway.

[hell_hound]

Reniak and River allowed their horses to break the tree line before Ren dropped off Sonja to land in the dirt a few feet away from the woman. He turned slightly so she could see the two blades he wore on his back - a habit he had picked up out of nowhere - but he held his hands up and away from their handles. A hulking man, Ren often failed at making himself seen unassuming and nonthreatening, but he did his best. He forced his often-frozen face to melt into a kinder expression.

“My name is Reniak Lyria, though most call me Ren,” he introduced himself. Then he gestured slowly to River, whose foot got caught in the stirrup, causing him to faceplant into the grass. “This is River Clarke.”

River struggled to his feet before lifting his hands in the air, too. “Believe me, love, we don’t want any trouble,” he said, allowing the full force of his accent to flow through. “Just passing through. Trust me, we wouldn’t even be here if this guy believed in cars.”

Ren rolled his strange amber eyes and said, “What are you doing out here? These forests are infested. Are you alone?”

“Way to sound creepy,” muttered River.

Chester knocked him to the ground with a hard bump from his nose.

[hell_hound]

Ren and River followed the stranger toward the little town she described. It sounded like these survivors had created a little slice of paradise out of the hell the world had become. Good for them. As the town came into view, Ren found himself staring in awe at all it had to offer. It had been months since he’d seen such a stretch of resources. Fresh fruits and vegetables lined the carts in the marketplace; meat hung on hooks inside what looked like a butcher’s shop. The equipment for horses that someone was offering looked far better than the rags the boys had managed to secure for their rides. The old farmhouse hadn’t had much in the ways of tack or saddles.

As they passed a table where a woman was setting up an apple stand, Ren noticed River’s hand twitch out of the corner of his eye. He gave the other man a sharp shake of his head. River sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

The last thing either of them needed was for River’s chronic illness to get in the way of a good thing.

Once the trio had dropped off the horses at the stables - the beasts went immediately for the water trough in their enclosures - Ren inquired about food and rest. They had ridden hard the last few days and it showed. Not a single scrap of skin on either of their bodies was without dirt or grime. Blood from the zombies and highwaymen they had encountered along the way caked their clothes. And dear God the smell of them was enough to peel the paint from the walls of any nearby buildings. Ren himself had grown a full beard and his hair hung past his shoulders while his new partner had his own wild locks to deal with.

“Is there a place we can stay? Perhaps get something to eat? The days haven’t been merciful,” he said with a slight smile. “As you can probably tell.”

[hell_hound]

While the three of them walked through the makeshift town, River took note of everything he came across. It was one of the things that made him a good taker, this acute ability of observation. His eyes missed nothing. The goofball demeanor was entirely natural, but when it came to certain things River could switch between being a precious bean to a skilled thief. He noticed the chain around the baker’s neck - silver, it looked like. He noticed the boxes of canned goods one of the women carried in a cart that she was hiding beneath old blankets. And when they walked into the small, sad excuse for a clinic, he noticed something else that made his heart flutter with excitement.

The doctor was English.

Sliding out from behind Reniak, River approached the tall, dark-haired woman first. He gave her his cheeriest smile and said in a voice laced thick with his own accent, “Ello, love! It’s so bloody good to see another Brit among all these yanks. How are you faring, darling?”

Reniak’s golden eyes slithered from his new partner, to Sloane, to the doctor and back. He’d known River was from another country, but never had the other man put this much emphasis on his accent. He nodded politely to the physician before setting his weapons aside and removing his shirt. Along his chest was a gash that ran from the top of his left shoulder to the middle of his abdomen. It would heal, but it needed medicine and dressing.

He ignored the stares he received from a lady standing near the window. “Do you think you can fix this?”

[hell_hound]

River couldn’t help but feel a little sad when Ravenya didn’t return his excitement about meeting another of their nationality, but at the same time he understood. This wasn’t some walk in the park. This was the end of the world. The End Times, as he had heard it be called many times before. Mostly by his grandmother, who never missed a church sermon, but it was all the same. He listened as the women talked about raids, his excitement returning at the idea of going out on an adventure. He hated being stuck inside despite the danger outside.

“If you need another member for your party I wouldn’t mind coming along. I may not look it, but I’m not entirely useless,” he volunteered. “Besides, it sounds like I’m one of the few without a hole in my gut.” He looked pointedly at Ren.

Reniak grunted at him. In response to Ray, he merely replied, “Pure chance. We were crossing through the forest and happened upon Miss Sloane. She notices our horses were in need of some attention and brought us here.”

River watched the exchange between Ray and Ren, snickering to himself. Those two would make the most non excitable, monotone-sounding babies in the world.

[hell_hound]

As much as the poultice stung, Ren didn’t make a peep. The only sign of his discomfort was the gritting of his teeth and the slight wince he gave. He watched her throw away her trash before he stood and shrugged on his shirt, vest, and jacket. He returned his blades to his back as well. The wound would heal just fine now that it had medical attention. Not that he had been worried about it in the first place. It had been River that complained the entire time from the moment he received the gash. Mostly about how badly his luck would be should Reniak perish before he could outlive his usefulness.

Ren had punched him for that one.

“A day’s rest and something to eat is all I need. I’d be happy to join you,” Reniak said to the women. “It’s the least we can do for showing up unexpectedly.”

[hell_hound]

River liked kids. Always had. Maybe it was because he had a mindset much like a child’s when he wasn’t having to be serious. Or maybe it was because when he was around them he didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t like he did when he was around other adults. Whatever the reason, River enjoyed listening to the William boy’s endless stream of innocent questions. He found their hostess’s irritation just as amusing as the kid did. However, all childish thoughts left him the moment the blonde opened the front door of her quaint - or, quaint for the apocalypse that is - little house wearing nothing beneath a thin pair of overalls.

Ren had to clear his throat three times and hit the idiot over the head in order to bring him back to reality. Once Sloane had disappeared back the way they had come and the homeowner allowed them inside - begrudgingly, he noticed - Ren deposited himself on the makeshift sofa, blades resting near his knee.

“Thank you for letting us rest here,” he said, eyeballing River where he drooled near the door. “And I apologize for my, erm, friend.”

[hell_hound]

Ren sat in polite silence while Andy changed and went about her routine. He wasn’t one to be in the way or make a fuss, so waiting came easy for him. When Andy returned a few minutes later and inquired about his blades, his golden eyes seemed to light up a little more than they had been previously. Ren had a passion for two things - horses and weaponry, particularly blades. These two passions had become invaluable to him and those that traveled with him over these apocalyptic days.

“I prefer them over guns,” he explained. “Blades never need to be reloaded. They never jam. And even a dull blade can decapitate if enough force is behind it.”

River blinked at his partner. This guy literally had the attention of the most beautiful woman in the town and this is what he chooses to talk about? Ren often came across as cool, confident and quiet, but this was ridiculous. River cleared his throat from where he stood leaning against the wall and said, “Maybe our hostess would rather talk about something else besides decapitation? I’m sure she’s seen enough as it is.”

Ren glanced up from Andy to River, confusion on his face.

What had he done?

[hell_hound]

Ren listened to her with all the attentiveness of a fellow weaponry buff. He liked a woman that knew her way around an arsenal. Intrigued, Ren lifted each blade, admiring its length, weight and balance respectively. They were beautiful. When the boy - William, he reminded himself - surged forward and attempted to take the katana away from Andy again, Ren thrust one of his sheathed blades between the kid and danger.

“That is no way to retrieve your weapon from an enemy,” he explained. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

River, seeing his chance to actually get a word in, glided over to the group. “C’mon, kid! Let’s go outside. I’ll let you shoot at some cans or something.” He grabbed the boy’s shoulder and ushered him toward the door.

Truth be told, River wasn’t a violent man anymore. He hated the situation he had found himself in. And he especially hated talking about it when it wasn’t necessary. It triggered his past, which left him in a strange state of mind. So he avoided it whenever he could. However, teaching the boy to shoot to defend himself wouldn’t be half as bad as looking at those two flirt. Ugh.

Once William and River had disappeared, Ren turned his attention back to Andy. “These are Kida and Kodisa.” He held them up one at a time as he said their name. “War and Peace. They’re sort of a family heirloom. I trained with them my entire life. They’re an extension of myself.”

[hell_hound]

Reniak admired the blades as she spoke, listening to their stories and enjoying listening to this stranger talk. When asked about River, he leaned against the back of the seat he’d taken at the table. How to explain a man like that to a woman like this. He needed a moment. Honestly, he didn’t know much about River, either. He never volunteered personal information; a trait Ren appreciated in most people. However, during their brief partnership Reniak had often wondered about River himself.

“I don’t know a lot about him,” Ren began honestly, meeting Andy’s curious gaze. “I was taking a rest beneath an oak tree when we met. He was trying to steal my swords. We fought before he yielded and I left him standing there. Half a mile later he appeared at my side, chatting away about my fighting techniques and the weather as if he hadn’t tried to take my most prized possession. I’ve tried losing him many times, but he always finds me. He doesn’t offer personal information about himself, except if you ask him about England. I believe he misses his home country. He is also one of the most notorious thieves I’ve ever met.”

Ren’s lips quirked up in the barest hint of a grin. “He said the world ended mere seconds after he stole a pair of unicorn socks from a department store. Blames himself in a way, though I think he’s joking.” His smile disappeared after a moment as he added, “However, do not let his idiotic demeanor fool you. There is much more to River Clarke than meets the eye.”

Meanwhile, River strolled with the kid toward what appeared to be the backyard of the house. The only indicator he had of that was the fact that the grass seemed a bit shorter here than further toward the tree line. When William spoke, River grinned down at him.

“You are going to learn to shoot and I’m going to teach you. You should know how to defend yourself,” he answered. “Unless you’re chicken.” Playfully, he made clucking noises. River had always been good with kids. He knew how to fire them up.