Mal grumbled to herself, keeping her staff close in hand as she tread her way through what remained of downtown Vale. Unfortunately for her, and the rest of the Sea Devil’s crew, the area between the docks and the established safe zone was yet to be touched by the recovery efforts. If it were up to her she and the rest of her team would be as far away from Vale as they could be. Unfortunately it wasn’t up to her. So long as Killian’s brother and his team was in Vale so was Killian; and the Sea Devil wouldn’t sale without her captain. She still didn’t understand why Killian refused to leave. His brother was a Huntsman, it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle himself.
The David family had never made much sense to her, now that she thought of it. Even when they were younger, living in Mistral, they were too much like the families on tv. They ate dinner at a table off of actual plates instead of styrofoam cartons in front of the television. Mal doubted she ever saw Killian’s parents yell at him, and the brothers were always at each other’s side. At least, that is, until Killian left. It was the first thing he had done that had made sense to her, the first selfish and reckless thing that she could understand.
She didn’t know why it infuriated her so much. What did she care about how the David family conducted themselves? Because, she realized, it made her family look like a bunch of losers. Her family that spent most nights yelling over minor infractions instead of sitting and chatting at a dinner table about their day. Her family that taught her how to lie, and cheat, and steal, instead of sending her to school to learn to be a productive member of society. Her family who smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke instead of cookies and roast beef or whatever it was parents were supposed to smell like.
Rubble shifting broke her from her thoughts, causing her to jump and grip her staff tighter. It was just the wind, she told herself. Most of the Grimm had been cleared from the city, right? She forced herself to continue towards the docks but froze when she saw the burning red eyes. A scream caught in her throat and she considered running for it. No. That would make it worse. Staff at the ready, dust glowing along the grain of it’s wood, she stood shaking but considerably ready for an attack.
