Chapter 3: Rest and Relaxation
Later that day, as Mick and Oscar began to get awkwardly acquainted with each other, Jax, Jonas, and Martin set out for a short patrol around the border. As they returned, everyone noticed a terrible stench in the air.
“What is that smell?” Martin asked, trying not to cough in disgust.
“Hey, Steven,” Jax said casually, paying no attention to the awful odor in the air, “it kinda smells like the trail to your den after you brought that rotten carcass home last year.”
“Hey, back off!” Steven replied, defensively. “It wasn’t me. And that was a very trying time, by the way. We were having trouble finding food to begin with. Do you think I had much choice?”
“True,” Jax said, “but that still doesn’t excuse you stinking up half the pack for a month.”
“Well, you know what I always say,” Jonas chimed in, “he who hath smelt, hath dealt it.”
“Indeed. You always had such a way with words,” Jax replied.
“What are you two talking about?” Martin asked, confused. “I’ve literally never heard you say that.”
“Well, just because you’ve never heard us say it, doesn’t mean it never happened,” Jonas said.
“Agreed,” Jax replied. “I mean, if a tree falls in the woods and no one’s around, does it make any noise?”
“Good point,” Jonas said.
“It isn’t me!” Steven exclaimed.
At that moment, Mick came walking past. The smell only got stronger.
“Oh, god!” Steven exclaimed, coughing. “Mick, is that you?”
“Is what me?” Mick asked, obliviously.
“That smell.”
“What smell?”
“How often do you bathe?” Martin asked.
“Once a month,” Mick said, smiling, “and I’m proud of it.”
He looked around at everyone and the looks they were giving him.
“Fine,” he sighed, “I’m going.”
Meanwhile, back at Viggo’s campsite, Robert and Viggo were busy relaxing and catching up, as it had been a long time since they had last seen each other. The two were sitting in lawn chairs outside of Viggo’s tent, both with drinks in hand and casually talking as if nothing was wrong, like they were regular people having a friendly chat rather than two relentless wolf hunters out to destroy a pack.
Viggo mainly stayed silent, hardly telling Robert anything about why he was so obsessed with the Western Pack and always managed to avoid saying anything whenever Robert brought it up. Instead, he asked Robert how he had been doing and what he had been up to since they had last seen each other.
“Well,” Robert said, “not long after you left and began plotting and scheming or whatever it is that you do out here, I continued my hunting work as much as I could while also maintaining control over the Crimson Pack. While they were out on missions, I would sometimes go out myself and do some recreational hunting. And sometimes, I would make it challenging and more fun for myself and leave my rifle behind so I could hunt with my bare hands.”
“Well then,” Viggo said, raising his eyebrows and looking genuinely impressed, “it seems you have more skill in the forest than I gave you credit for, my old friend. I had no idea you were so near my level of skill when it came to hunting. Any man you can kill a wolf with their bare hands is a skilled hunter indeed.”
Viggo raised his glass in a suggestive toast. Robert raised his as well.
“Here’s to friendship and victory,” Viggo declared.
“To victory and friendship,” Robert replied and the two took a drink from their glasses and continued their friendly conversation.
Rest and relaxation were a luxury they didn’t have much of nowadays and as eager as they were to destroy the Western Pack, they were glad to get as much of it as they could before the war truly began.
Later that day, as Mick and Oscar began to get awkwardly acquainted with each other, Jax, Jonas, and Martin set out for a short patrol around the border. As they returned, everyone noticed a terrible stench in the air.
“What is that smell?” Martin asked, trying not to cough in disgust.
“Hey, Steven,” Jax said casually, paying no attention to the awful odor in the air, “it kinda smells like the trail to your den after you brought that rotten carcass home last year.”
“Hey, back off!” Steven replied, defensively. “It wasn’t me. And that was a very trying time, by the way. We were having trouble finding food to begin with. Do you think I had much choice?”
“True,” Jax said, “but that still doesn’t excuse you stinking up half the pack for a month.”
“Well, you know what I always say,” Jonas chimed in, “he who hath smelt, hath dealt it.”
“Indeed. You always had such a way with words,” Jax replied.
“What are you two talking about?” Martin asked, confused. “I’ve literally never heard you say that.”
“Well, just because you’ve never heard us say it, doesn’t mean it never happened,” Jonas said.
“Agreed,” Jax replied. “I mean, if a tree falls in the woods and no one’s around, does it make any noise?”
“Good point,” Jonas said.
“It isn’t me!” Steven exclaimed.
At that moment, Mick came walking past. The smell only got stronger.
“Oh, god!” Steven exclaimed, coughing. “Mick, is that you?”
“Is what me?” Mick asked, obliviously.
“That smell.”
“What smell?”
“How often do you bathe?” Martin asked.
“Once a month,” Mick said, smiling, “and I’m proud of it.”
He looked around at everyone and the looks they were giving him.
“Fine,” he sighed, “I’m going.”
Meanwhile, back at Viggo’s campsite, Robert and Viggo were busy relaxing and catching up, as it had been a long time since they had last seen each other. The two were sitting in lawn chairs outside of Viggo’s tent, both with drinks in hand and casually talking as if nothing was wrong, like they were regular people having a friendly chat rather than two relentless wolf hunters out to destroy a pack.
Viggo mainly stayed silent, hardly telling Robert anything about why he was so obsessed with the Western Pack and always managed to avoid saying anything whenever Robert brought it up. Instead, he asked Robert how he had been doing and what he had been up to since they had last seen each other.
“Well,” Robert said, “not long after you left and began plotting and scheming or whatever it is that you do out here, I continued my hunting work as much as I could while also maintaining control over the Crimson Pack. While they were out on missions, I would sometimes go out myself and do some recreational hunting. And sometimes, I would make it challenging and more fun for myself and leave my rifle behind so I could hunt with my bare hands.”
“Well then,” Viggo said, raising his eyebrows and looking genuinely impressed, “it seems you have more skill in the forest than I gave you credit for, my old friend. I had no idea you were so near my level of skill when it came to hunting. Any man you can kill a wolf with their bare hands is a skilled hunter indeed.”
Viggo raised his glass in a suggestive toast. Robert raised his as well.
“Here’s to friendship and victory,” Viggo declared.
“To victory and friendship,” Robert replied and the two took a drink from their glasses and continued their friendly conversation.
Rest and relaxation were a luxury they didn’t have much of nowadays and as eager as they were to destroy the Western Pack, they were glad to get as much of it as they could before the war truly began.
