Chase pulled the old car up to camp, yanking on the emergency brake once he was lined up next to some other POS car. They all looked as if they had been brought to life from the eighties, some with CD players and others bold enough to not have their cassette players removed. It was likely Mark still had a few cassettes. There was something to be said for nostalgia.

?So the deal here is no guns," he said when they met up again in the parking lot. "No hard drugs. Mark says it gets too much bad attention and the sort of jail sentences that make people squeal.? No one liked to admit that, but it was always different when looking down a twenty year sentence in the slammer.

Chase lifted his cellphone and start to punch keys. DJ would have to humor him, he was the sort that always looked partly annoyed by something. Still staring at his screen as they proceeded towards camp, he muttered, ?Yeah, he?ll see us at the bonfire.?

Django had followed Chase to camp with no issues, easily keeping up through the traffic lights and turns. His truck was right at home in a sea of battered metal that had definitely seen better days -- she wasn?t much to look at, but the engine was solid enough. Pulling in next to Chase on the opposite side, he?d left his pistol under the seat and hopped out of the truck to join Chase for the walk to Camp.

?Mm, y?said that already,? DJ said it lightly, a smile revealing teeth that were surprisingly white in a face that was mostly made up of gold tones. They stood out, like his bright blue eyes. ?Makes sense, though. I don?t do drugs and I won?t carry in camp. Got it.? His tone was jovial, showing off his good nature in a sharp contrast to Chase?s seemingly perpetual grump. ?Anything else I should know?? He fell into step alongside the other man, approaching the camp and the bonfire beyond it.

?Yeah, but sometimes folks have trouble not hearing,? a few folks had slipped and broken the rules. A little bit of weed here. A gun there. Perhaps what seemed like an innocent lollipop on occasion. Maybe all anyone needed was the threat of Mark giving them a hard time to keep the situation from getting out of hand. He didn?t know, but what he did know was that camp life here was a little more chill than in other places. That could have had everything to do with how young Mark was, though.

?Mark?s the first, his second is Ian, kinda, and then Quinn is the campground guard and he?s a werewolf.? There was, added shortly after, ?And Grace is Mark?s wife so? not that one.?

At the bonfire, a few beers had already been opened and everyone was leaned back, chatting. In the white and green plaid plastic woven lawn chair, Mark was sunk deep into it, sharing some sort of story with Jude when the two of them rolled up. His smile dimmed some, his eyes diverting to the new face. There would have been more hostility if not for Chase being by his side. Chase cleared his throat as they got closer, speaking sidelong to DJ, ?And strangers. He really? really hates strangers coming into camp.?

?Ian?s the little brother with the weird reputation, right?? For Gypsies, information was currency, and Django had done his homework before making this move. He took the information about the werewolf in stride -- he?d heard all kinds of wild things about this Rhy?Din place, and had resolved not to react to it until he saw it for himself. For now it was just words, and words had a way of maintaining some distance from reality. He wouldn?t have to really think about it until he could put the truth of it to the test of his eyes.

Maybe the first thing he noticed when they approached the bonfire was that you could only tell for sure which one was Mark by the way the man was looking at him. He wasn?t apart from his mates, holding court like a king. He was right there with them at the first, sharing beers and conversation, just one of the many and another part of the family. He smiled, giving Chase a partial nod for the final advice.

?Mark, nice to meet you,? he said it with a friendly warmth in his voice, stretching one hand out to the First on offer. ?Django Hazard, most call me DJ.?

?Ian and me both,? Chase?s response wasn?t salty, it sounded more like a mutter. But it would confirm that yes, maybe, just maybe, some of what he had heard was true. Ian was the wolf kid, and Chase had a crazy sister.

Mark stood out only because of a gentle deference people gave him. When he cleared his throat, they let him talk. When he rose up, they didn?t give him too much grief. Yet he was still there, young and in the midst of all the noise.

?I heard yah was on tha way. Yah seem a bit light fer an arrival.? He was talking about the fact that DJ didn?t have a bag, or an RV. That it was like Chase had brought him some lost drunkard from the Inn. Mark must have known better, his stance said he was expecting him and he actually took DJ?s hand to shake it in greeting. Mark was known for being ?oblivious? to hand offerings in the past. It wasn?t the way he liked to say hello.

?Sah, is this all o? yah or is there more tah come?? Right to business. Chase shrugged, ?cause he didn?t know and he watched as Mark smiled in a way that was friendly, but tentatively so. DJ could sour him quickly if the response wasn?t right.

The man?s smile came easily, without reservation. It was a charming smile, broad and full of straight teeth that he must have been taking care of because they were all there and all mostly white. The grin had an inviting friendliness to it, but--similar to Mark?s-- it didn?t quite reach the deep blue eyes. In his gaze was a wariness, a hint of detachment. ?Well, I don?t like t?be presumptuous,? he said as an explanation, and then gestured his truck in the parking lot. ?My gear?s in the truck though, just in case.?

Mark took his hand and his smile stretched slightly -- could be that the Barlow leader was known for ignoring that particular gesture, could be he was secretly pleased to have gotten the handshake anyway. ?There?s a few still ruminatin? where I come from, but...I never have had much interest in waitin? on the crowd to make up it?s mind so I came on early.?

?Good, we need new blood. There were ah clash before and tha ground swallowed some blood but it looks like those days ah behind us.? Mark?s hand still held his, it hesitated and then it let gah. His eyebrows knit a bit and then he nodded tah Chase, in tha way that excused him.

Chase got a moment o? pause and then he was off like it was nothin?. Mark knew tha man tah be a bit moody, mehbe on account o? hours he worked. His nights was everyone else?s days. Mehbe it was like tha whole world were always backwards fer him.

Now, tho, he were lookin? at this new guy, ?They always talk around camps. Come, we walk. You a smoker?? He stepped away from the bonfire, but the warmth of it, the smell of lazy, burned wood, followed him. There hadn?t been any marshmallows at all, and yet the feeling o? them persisted. Tha sense that everyone was full on something which warmed them was carried along.

DJ nodded. ?I heard a bit about that, yeah,? he acknowledged, and when Mark released his hand, he pressed his fingers to the spot between his eyebrows, rubbing an imaginary itch. ?Glad to hear the trouble?s past, though.? His eyes chased Barlow?s to Chase, lingering there a moment. He gave the departing man a nod that said they?d catch up later, then redirected his attention to Mark.

?Yeah, I smoke sometimes. Roll my own though, if that?s cool?? The cans of tobacco were cheaper, and while the lack of filter made the smoke come more harsh, it also came with considerably less chemical trash. As he spoke, the blond dug a much battered cigarette tin out of his back pocket, popping it open with a push of the clasp. He offered it out to Mark, held open like a Bible, or the bill at a restaurant. ?S?this? French tobacco called Gauloises. It?s pretentious as **** probly, but I like it.?

While he waited to see whether Mark would accept one, he glanced around at the other folks assembled at the fire. Nodding at this one and smiling for that one, he drew a rolled cigarette out for himself once Mark had made his choice. ?Seems like a nice group y?got here. Sociable.?

Calling the tobacco pretentious prompted him tah give tha man a broad smile. Mark liked it when a man could see a thing for whut it were, still like it, and not hide it undah his bed like a secret he were keepin? from mom. ?Oi, yeah, that?s takin? the task a bit serious.?

Usually, he weren?t a smoker. Most o? tha time he got into having a few when he was drinkin? around tha bonfire, like he were. Two beers deep and he jist got tha feeling o? easy shoulders and warmth in his chest. Tha offer o? one was made tah him, and truthfully he weren?t compelled tah have one, but tha moment were a symbol. DJ was invited in and here he made an offer, and there was eyes tah see it. Mark smiled again, reaching tah the rolled cigarette, pickin? the one that looked tha most ?normal? when he did sah.

?Been awhile since I had a rolled one. Mah Da used to roll ?em fer a while, but he said it got tah be too much of a pain in tha ass.? He stepped away to get a lighter from one of the others and then offered it tah DJ. One might think a smoker woulda always had one on them, but they was always askin? fer a light. And a cigarette. Odd little habit in how it worked like tha. Once lit up, his steps took him away from tha fire. Ovah his shoulder he checked that tha newcomer weren?t far off from him.

?It?s definitely more of a pain in the ass,? DJ agreed readily, snapping the case shut and slipping it back into his pocket once both cigarettes had been withdrawn. ?But they last longer and it saves me a couple dollars here an? there to feed my gas tank instead.? He smiled lightly -- there were precious few people who hadn?t heard of Mark?s Da, after all. ?I had this idea that having to roll ?em myself would make me smoke less, because it?s such a pain in the ass? But...now I just roll a bunch of ?em at once when I can?t sleep.?

Broad shoulders moved in an easy shrug as he made fun of himself. Aware of the symbolism in the exchange, he accepted the lighter and fit the rolled smoke between his lips, getting it lit and then handing it back. He inhaled once and started moving, and when Mark looked back for him he was there, close behind.