"Daddy, can I have another little pie....?" Duck glances up from his work, taking another long drink from his lemonade and sitting his carving knife aside. "I've only had like, four." Robin insists, dangling from the counter's edge, Brute sat obediently beside the boy. "And they're tiny so they don't count that's what ya say about th' little cups of spicy water you're always drinkin'-"
"Robin, bud, hush." He sighs, standing up with a groan. "You don't need anymore sugar, yer gonna be a nightmare when we go home. here." He reaches into his pockets, handing over a couple ration cards. "You take these and go get whatever you want, a snack, somethin' t play with, whatever. Just take Brute with ya, and behave, okay? What do we do?"
"Say please and thank you, tell the grown ups if I need help, and if anybody tries t' touch me in the bad way, start screamin' and bite somethin' off so they can't lie t' the cops about what happened."
"Atta boy. Get goin." He insists, watching the kid run off before leaning against the counter with a groan, head set against wood before a shadow tells him someone else has arrived. "Hey what can I get- Holy shit." He's a hell of a lot older from the last time Duck's seen him, sure, but call it a brother's intuition when he lets out a short bark of a laugh. "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, what the fuck are you doin' back in Huntsville, Tal?"
@ofenigmas