Only lovers left alive

This place is... it's a ruin.  It turns to ash in his mouth.  The same place they'd staged during the raid on the Raiders, the day shit had hit the fan.  The Armada had called it home once.  It's why they'd chosen it as the safe place for their healers.  Halo knew it well.  Hell, she'd even taken him down here to collect herbs, what felt like a lifetime ago.  Dread wove between the trees, stride lazy, contemplative.  The ground here felt... almost weird.  Holy, but in a way he couldn't articulate.  He pushes the thoughts back.  

Her shoulder pushed against his, Dread reached down to pluck a white daisy from the ground.  Sticking it behind her ear with a cheeky sort of smile, he thinks for a moment about her words.  "What would you like to get out of leading a band?" It's an analytical question. The years of leadership had worn his father down-- he could only imagine what Sirius had been before. What he would have been, if he hadn't been run so ragged keeping the pack and his family together. Dread wouldn't dwell.

Really, he was trying to sort out what would make her happy. As long as they were happy everything else could come later.