#d.tricky

"Robin! Sit yer ass down." He's not even watching his son today, the elementary schooler instead zipping between the booths belonging to Wren and her bandmates 'helping' make sales in his own... special way. Duck settles back into his seat, as Robin plants himself at the side of G's booth obediently, Mal shaking his head and turning back to his own work before a familiar face passes by. "Well well, finally decided to grace us with your presence outside a' working hours?" He smiles, picking up the coffee mug beside himself smoothly. "How you keepin' on, Trick?"

Mal's been busy, and he'll never hold it against Tricky that they've not had the time to talk- between being back to work in his full capacity, the orchard in full swing of planting and flowering season and his alarmingly stable romantic life- he's been pretty happy to take the back seat to a lot of things- embrace the peace while he has it- and for Duck, that's being busy. But Tricky's still a brother in arms- a friend he's never once taken for granted. and it's always nice to catch up.

@backmaskcd

"Oooooh the traitor returns!" It's a greeting bellowed from the very back desk of Station Alpha, Duck's familiar dust-covered cowboy boots kicked up on the top of it and his hat pulled down over his face. It's almost impressive, the fact he seems to have identified Trick by little more than a sliver of a ranger uniform from beneath his hat, lifting it up and sitting it back in place a moment later, flicking the front up. "Rust's doing a sweep if you're here to annoy him about something work related. They keeping you in line down at South Station or are they letting you run riot undoin' all my hard work?" It's sarcastic, playful as it always is. Duck seems to be the only one in right now, the actual rangers likely out making their morning and afternoon sweeps of the forest or hunting on their own- the game warden often left to sit around by himself.

"It's gonna be so much colder soon! And you're a migratory bird- so it's bad luck you-" Rusty's voice chimes behind Tricky in the doorway of the ranger station, the man absently conversing with a bird tucked into his jacket, peeping softly, snuggled against the biting wind. "Oh- Hey Trick- what brings you up? Business 'er pleasure?"

"Boy you ain't had a pleasure call since ya grew into yer beergut." Duck snorts, watching as Rusty throws a pencil at his head- only to wiff, and miss by a mile. "Missed." He mocks, drumming his hands on his desk in front of him. "Mockin' you boys aside, what brings you in, ain't it your day off, soldier?"

@backmaskcd

"You followed me and the Cravens home like you followed orders. Loyally and without question. I wish I'd known to warn you, that what we were coming home to was a warzone of a different kind. I blame myself, a bit. If I'd never mentioned Huntsville, West Virginia, you'd be somewhere else- probably just a riddled with the trauma a few tours brings along but at least it wouldn't be here, enduring more and more. The Howling 13 were family, and there ain't a lot of us left- some lost in the desert, some back home to themselves or the bottle. Some to things we couldn't help, like Leon. In all of you I had brothers away from brothers, family bonded in the thought we were doing the right thing. In others I found lovers, though that was short lived. But I always wanted to keep you safe."