#clone sergeant hound

Fox did not think he would live to see Lothal’s endless grasslands, but here he is, lying in the soft grass in civilian clothes.

The morning sun burns in his eyes and he blinks, turning away slightly. “I didn’t know the galaxy had places like this,” he mumbles, admiring the scenery around him. There’s flowers blooming by his feet.

And it’s a lie, of course: Fox has always dreamt of Lothal. He has always dreamt of the sun on his skin and quiet and calmness. But even if he knew of its existence he never really believed in it, because how could he believe a place like this exists when all he sees are speeders and dark alleys and Senators that can barely stand to look at him, as if he isn’t even there.

Thorn hums from where he’s lying next to him, face down on the ground and shoes several feet away, right next to Fox’s. “Does it still hold up to your expectations?” he asks. Fox glances at him and finds that he’s lifted his head just the smallest bit, and there’s a lopsided grin plastered across his squished features. In the backrgound, there’s laughter.

“I’m never leaving this planet again,” Fox says very seriously, and Thorn chuckles even though he probably knows Fox isn’t joking. “That’s what I thought. I’m not going, either.”

“I would’ve been offended if you left me here,” Fox says.

“Don’t worry, vod. You’re stuck with me.”

“Are you two going to get up again or have you put down roots?” Stone calls out from a good distance away. He and Hound are passing a small ball back and forth. Grizzer barks as she tries to catch it and fails miserably to jump the right amount. She runs into poor Stone instead and he yelps as he meets the ground with the entire weight of Hound’s largest and dearest Massif on top of him. He yells at Hound to get her off. Grizzer loses interest in the game and instead seems to find great joy in sitting on Stone, tongue hanging out as she watches him struggle.

“You’re going to have to drag me away from here,” Thorn mutters. He doesn’t bother speaking up since Stone seems a little occupied. “This shit is softer than any mattress I’ve slept on.”

“There’s also twice as many bugs, probably,” Fox says.

“Actually, I think our old barracks had more bugs.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting. You stink. I can smell you from all the way here.”

Fox closes his eyes again and sighs. He guessed that some things just don’t change. But the sun tickles his nose and his hands don’t ache, and he feels the soft grass on his fingertips, and that’s enough confirmation that they do.

“You two having fun,” a new voice asks, and Fox blinks a few times, then feels his lips tug into a smile. “Hey there, Cody,” he says softly. “Had enough of the wolfpack?”

Cody looks down at him, then at Thorn. “Is he asleep?” he asks.

“I wish,” Thorn says, his voice muffled. Cody laughs.

“Wolffe is retelling a story for the fifth time today. The shinies are very impressed but enough is enough. You mind if I join you?”

“The grass belongs to all brothers,” Thorn replies very seriously, or as seriously as one can speak with a mouth full of grass. He seems to refuse to roll around again.

Cody sits down between them and props himself up on his elbows, and he and Fox watch as Hound and Thire desperately try and pull Grizzer off of poor Stone. Stone has not given up insulting Hound’s growing-tube. Hound tells him that he can insult him all he wants. Stone calls Grizzer fat. Hound stares. The next second he leaves the hill and walks in the opposite direction, not turning around even as Stone tries to tell him how much he regrets his actions. Thire catches Hound halfway and pulls him back up.

Thire yells something at the three of them in the grass. Fox is very much not listening.

“Sorry, we’re busy!” Cody calls out. Hound gives him a thumbs up. Thire groans.

The sun is warm on Fox’s skin, and his eyelids are heavy, and everything might be loud but it’s laughter and glee and even Stone’s yelling isn’t one of any actual rage or fear.

Stone: *reading the shirt* “I promise I’m nicer than my face looks.”

Thire: We have the same face, idiot.

Thire: How come?

Fox: I mixed a packet of kraft dinner cheese sauce into his drink and told him it was orange kool-aid.

Hound: *snort laughing*

Fox: He spit it across the table all over Fives and Tup.