braying jackass

Valentine listened intently as Theory spoke. In his youth he'd been faced with challenges of his own as an alpha. They hadn't been the sort that she was facing now but he knew what it was like for responsibility to weigh heavily on the shoulders. Later in life he'd dealt with grief. First in some form with the disappearance of Rhythm and Rhyme, then the loss of Imperium, then Cascade. Only the last bore close similarity to Theory's situation. The loss of his best friend - his one true friend, it turns out - had been devastating. She'd gone too soon and left the world filled with far too many coyotes.

"Considering all the shit," he was not going to spare her here, "Those lands have seen it's not a bad idea to consider moving. And Serpent Plains, really? I always thought that was a shit place to live. Who voluntarily moves into a land that promises an abundance of snakes? That's like standing on the edge of Flood-Often Canyon and going 'oh yeah here's the perfect place to raise a family'." A dumbass, that's who, but Bass had always been more heart than brain.

He couldn't remember if he knew who the fuck Vail was. The name sounded vaguely familiar but if he was a Destruction the odds of him being memorable enough for Valentine to remember were slim to none. At this point he had too few fucks left to waste them on soft and cuddly nobodies. Valentine nodded in agreement. "The dead give no fucks. They will neither mourn your loss if you move nor celebrate if you stay." Unless you visited Somnium and rat yourself out, but details. "It's the living who care and it's the living who must decide what is best for themselves. Whether or not that is staying for the sentiment or going for the mental health - or opportunity - is something only you know." He shrugged apathetically. That was his wisdom for the day. She could take it or leave it. He didn't care which. This was, after all, Abaven, and he expected she would follow whatever high emotion decision-making protocol the Destruction alphas were known for.

As for Rhyme mentioning his mother... Interesting. Perhaps he was finally having a change of heart for the old woman. It was about damn time. Rhythm had done nothing wrong and considering their history of years with the slavers it surprised Valentine that the big angsty tit was just now coming around to reaccepting the one person who had been with him when no one else could be. He would have thought that experience would have bound those two together, but he was often disappointed with Rhyme's ability to reason and think critically so why Valentine had been surprised by his son's rejection of Rhythm was a mystery even to Valentine. "Hm," he grunted. "Has he finally decided he can stomach the sight of her face?" Ah HA! Vail was that lady that got married that one time with the booze and the midget server. Remembering was better late than never, right? He still had it. No senility in this old bird.