Jayson holds his cosmic wood sword tight against him and lays curled next to the fire. His eyes are shut, but his eyelids twitch rapidly and his muscles tighten. A sudden knock on the pallet door brings his eyes to snap open, and after another round of knocking, he sits up and rubs his face.

  The knocking continues and Jayson peeks through the cracks in his door. Lexia is on the other side, and Jayson frowns, removes the log of wood that serves as a lock, and slightly opens his door.

  Outside, Derrick is standing a few paces away, uncaring of the rain. Lexia is directly in front of the door, her arms folded across her chest and her weary brown eyes staring at him.

  Rain patterns off her hat and coat, making her clothing darker. And he is sure Lexia is not comfortable because there is no way her big ears are fine with being held down to the back of her head by that hat.

  But all that said, seeing Lexia standing in front of him does make weight Jayson’s chest feel a little bit lighter.

  “How are you feeling?” asks Jayson.

  “Fine. Trees of green and red roses, too, eh?” says Lexia.

  “Yeah. How did you find me?” asks Jayson. He sniffs. “And why do you smell like an old anchovy and onion smoothy?”

  Lexia’s expression darkens and she jabs a thumb in Derrick’s direction. Jayson looks at Derrick, and the eagle barely looks at him.

  “How did you know where I lived?” asks Jayson.

  “Call it an educated guess” says Derrick.

  “Can I come in?” asks Lexia.

  Jayson steps aside, holding the door open, and Lexia enters. She has to keep her head somewhat tilted down due to the ceiling not being kind to her hare genetics.

  Jayson looks at Derrick, and he waves dismissively, so Jayson closes the door.

  Lexia paces around the living room of the decrepit burrow, looking at the collection of old and broken crates, some cushions, a collection of curtains, pillows and blankets. Self-defense and war books (both fictional and historic of the Toxic War) are stacked, and the Ouija board is still in the middle of the firepit, unharmed.

  “So, this is where the famous Hobo Warrior Bunny lives,” says Lexia.

  “Were you expecting me to hop off train cars all day or sleep under bridges?” says Jayson.

  “I was, actually.”

  “Ah well. Sorry to disappoint, but this is home for me.”

  Lexia shakes her head, pacing around the area and seeing a hallway caved in.

  “This isn't a home,” says Lexia.

  “It is to me,” says Jayson. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  Lexia quietly looks at Jayson, her eyes locked on him, but her mouth sealed tight. The silence grows, and Jayson leans against his weapon

  “Why…” Lexia pauses. “Why did you…”

  She grits her teeth and looks down, pounding her head with her fist.

  “Take your time,” says Jayson.

  “Why did you save my life?” blurts Lexia.

  “Did you want to die?” says Jayson.

  “No.”

  “Then what's the problem?”

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  “There isn't a problem, I just want to know why you saved my life.”

  “If you're having trouble saying thank you, I'll just say you're welcome to spare you the discomfort. I know you have an image to keep up as a brittle chocolate chip and sugar cookie.”

  “But I don't get it!” yells Lexia.

  Jayson arches a brow and Lexia paces around, tugging at her hair, hyperventilating and eyes wide.

  “I treat you like shit, I try to push you away, and when you had the opportunity to get a thorn out of your side you chose to keep the thorn in! Why!” cries Lexia.

  Jayson is silent. He looks down and taps the tip of his weapon against the dirt floor a few times.

  Lexia grabs his shoulders, squeezing him and trying to look into his eyes. The shadows dance and fuse together as the fire in the pit rages. Lexia's hands tremble and her eyes become moist.

  “You hate me, Jayson. I know you do. So, why didn't you let me die when you had the chance?” says Lexia.

  “Because I don't hate you,” says Jayson firmly. He lifts his head, his tired and yet steeled eyes meeting her bloodshot wet eyes. “I never hated you. Yeah, sometimes you annoy me. Sometimes you piss me off. But I never hated you. And when you were dying from Claribel’s bite, that was the first time I saw you truly afraid. And I didn't want to lose you like I lost Lexanne.”

  Lexia’s hands drop from Jayson's shoulders, her hand rubbing her bandages. “Your wife was bit by a snake?”

  Jayson shakes his head. “No... She... Killed herself from overdosing on Mama Bear’s Reel Sight pills.”

  Lexia looks down. “Oh... I'm sorry… Do I remind you of her?”

  Jayson barks a laugh. “Not even close! She was a beautiful flower and you're a prickly bitch. Also, you're heavier than she was.”

  Lexia glares at Jayson. “Well, screw you, too. Where did you even get the anti-venom?”

  “Mariana gave it to me.”

  “Lies and deceit.”

  “It's true. We can go over to her work right now and she'll tell you. Or maybe not. She did steal it after all.”

  Lexia huffs. “Well, if she stole it, she could get me more.”

  “Planning on getting bit again?”

  “No, but I have a bone to pick with Claribel, and I want to be prepared next time I face her.”

  Jayson nods. “Fair enough.”

  “Also, I owe you for saving my life, so I’m going to get you a King Don burrito.”

  “Oh… Thank.” Jayson averts his eyes and scratches his head. “But I’m kinda banned from Taco King.”

  “But I’m not.” Lexia grabs Jayson’s hand and drags him towards his door. “When I go in there to get those tacos and burritos, I’ll kindly request Mariana to give me more anti-venom.”

  “Mariana is working at the Crystal Plate right now.”

  “Then we'll go after I get tacos!”

  They step outside, the drizzle faint, but still dripping all around. Derrick is nearby, leaning underneath a tree, staring ahead with his rifle held tight. He looks at them with a small frown while Jayson quickly covers his entrance.

  “Took long enough,” says Derrick.

  “Yeah, it sure did. By the way, can I borrow some money?” says Lexia.

  “Borrowing money from me is Jayson’s job.”

  Jayson rolls his eyes, and after putting the finishing touches on his door's camouflage, he approaches Derrick and Lexia.

  “You don't have money for Taco King?” asks Jayson to Lexia.

  “Don't start with me. You never have money for it,” says Lexia.

  “That's because I'm a hobo. You are a pole dancer. Your paycheck practically doubles with tips.”

  Lexia smirks and inspects her little claws. “Yeah, that's true. Oh, wait a minute. I should call my bosses, too. See if I can get a sick day. I'll blame it on food poisoning and my house being robbed by some guy who mistook me for another guy, but then realized I wasn't a guy, but a beautiful girl which led to a blooming and short-lived relationship!”

  Lexia finishes with a diabolical grin and rubs her hands together, giggling to herself. Jayson stares at her with an arched brow, and Derrick sighs heavily and pulls out a stack of cash from his wallet.

  “Keep it simple, Lexia. Lying is easy when the story is simple. Food poisoning from Taco King ain't anything new,” says Derrick.

  “At least she's feeling better,” says Jayson.

  “Uh huh,” says Derrick dismissively. He gives Lexia the money. “Here's some money for Taco King. Keep your lie simple when you talk to your boss.”

  “Can we get a lift?” asks Jayson.

  “I ain't carrying the both of you to Taco King.”

  “That's fine. Jayson can walk,” says Lexia.

  Derrick stares at Lexia for a few seconds, meeting her hopeful smile with a small frown. She clenches her hands pleadingly in front of her smiling lips, her smile widening.

  Derrick flies off without a word.

  Lexia's smile drops, and she and Jayson crane their necks, watching Derrick shrink in the distance.

  “Wow. What a dick,” says Lexia.

  Jayson glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “All his talk of him not wanting me to get sick, and he leaves me out here, cold and wet, suffering from a snake bite,” continues Lexia.

  “Well, it looks like we’re going to get cold and wet together,” says Jayson.

  Lexia scoffs and the world briefly glitches around her hand as she pulls an umbrella out from the air.

  “Says you. I may get cold, but I refuse to get wetter,” says Lexia.

  She pops the umbrella open, revealing its bright, smiling sun decor, and she twirls it in her fingers before propping it above her head, shielding her from the drizzle while striking a pose.

  “Tada,” says Lexia.

  Jayson can’t help but smile at that. “Neat. Can I slide under there with you?”

  Lexia looks at Jayson, and then at the umbrella, and she sighs theatrically. “I suppose there’s enough space for the both of us.”

  “Sweet.”

  Jayson goes underneath the umbrella, nearly touching Lexia, and he uses his cosmic wooden sword as a cane. The two look at each other, and with a quiet nod, they stroll through the decaying neighborhood.