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Signe spends the night hunting down crack dealer, and eventually finds herself wandering down by the river, near the wharves. :she pulls herself up on to one of dock crane's rusted flat frame and sits, looking out at the water.

Davy gives his violent packmate a good three or four hours to find herself a target--being a ragabash does not denote a total lack of brains. Perhaps twenty minutes after Signe settles on the metal frame, she hears a familiar whistle coming up the walk behind her.

Signe turns, but she doesn't have to see in the dark to know who's coming. The scowl she wears deepens a fraction and she turns back to the water, content to let him come to her.

Davy crouches next to Signe, letting his whistling die off once he stands next to her. He glances sideways at the ahroun, but says nothing immediately.

Signe gives the Fianna a quick look. "I guess you know, I'm not in the best of moods," she says, but her tone suggests she's calm enough to be talked to.

Davy nods. For once, there's not a smile lightening his broad face. "Yeah, I saw some of the damage. I tried to tell her she was lucky to have her insides still in, but I don't think I got through."

Signe spits back, "Nothing gets through to her. She ain't gonna make it Davy. One day, probably soon, her mouth's gonna be the end of her. Like *that*." The ahroun snaps her fingers for emphasis. Shaking her head, she almost laughs.

Davy shakes his head with a long exhale. "She'll probably do all right, if she can learn some common safety tips. Maybe once she's slept off the worst of her fright, I can drill them in her head. Number 1 may be to simply avoid you and Pete and Jose, until she can control her mouth." Curiosity creeps into his tone. "What the hell'd she say, anyway?"

Signe actually does laugh now. "Me and Pete? Man, Davy, she can find trouble in a padded room, all by herself. She doesn't need one of us around for that. Did she tell you what happened?"

Davy shakes his head, frowning now. "Just that no one broke in, and she got into it with you. Her throat was pretty tore up."

Signe ducks her eyes, the scowl returning. "Yeah, well, I did that. But when I got there, she was already drunk, and already fucked up. I asked her what happened, and she said she'd gotten attacked on the street. Trouble follows her. Either that, or she goes /looking/ for it. Either way, she ain't gonna cut it."

Davy's jaw locks up. "Doesn't take looking for it to have bad luck," he says. Standing, he adds explosively, "Man, I hate fucks that beat on women." He seems completely oblivious to the fact that Signe might be offended by that statement.

Signe doesn't seem to be. She follows Davy's movement, however, a little surprised by the reaction. The expression disappears quickly. "If society didn't teach women to be weak, it wouldn't happen. Most of the fuckers that try that shit are weak and cowardly themselves, and they do it 'cause they know they can."

Davy looks down at Signe. "I don't know if it's society or what, but the simple fact is most women are weak, Signe. Weaker, anyway. Not as true among our kind, but it couldn't be, or our women wouldn't survive." He tightens his fists and barks out a laugh. "Frustrating thing is, she won't let me take care of her, even the little I can do."

Signe goes to stand up. She lays a firm hand on Davy's shoulder. "See? That's the kind of crap I mean! She *is* weak. Not to mention stupid and careless. She's even too dumb to take the help offered to her! No, she'd rather be all cocky and defiant, go walking down Regan street at 4am in a mini skirt, or call me a charach." With a growl, the Get pulls her hand back, "Fuck, she's too dumb to live, Davy!"

Davy snorts, though he raises a hand to bump Signe's other shoulder as he turns toward his packmate. "Plenty of people too dumb to live, but no one's killed Sally yet." He then does a classic double-take, his jaw dropping. "Wait. She called you a charach?"

Signe lets out another growl, muttering, "I'll probably get to her, eventually, too." Hearing his last remark, she looks back to him. "Not exactly. She used it to get my goat. What she got was my fist. She made some comment about.. me and Pete."

Davy shakes his head, befuddled. His tone is incredulous. "She not only called you a charach, she said you charached with a /Gnawer?/"

Signe growls sincerely now, "Yes. Now, stop repeating it. It's pissing me off."

Davy shakes his head and raises his hands in a surrender gesture. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just surprised you had as much restraint as you did."

Signe mutters, "She's lucky. That's what I'm saying. she won't be, next time. I suggest, if you /really/ want to protect her, you keep her the hell away from me."

Davy nods. "Already ahead of you. She didn't want to go. I won't be so nice about it, next time I request it.

Signe nods. "Well. I may spend a couple days down here, over at Kyle's hangout."

Davy's face twitches. "I don't want anyone running you out of our place," he says flatly.

Signe's eyes flash, "I don't run." she says, just as firmly. And, after a pause, she adds in a much milder tone, "But, if you want her to live, I'll *let* you get her out of there before I come back."

You say "Just come back, soon." He scowls at the rusted dock, as if it offends. "I don't like being in Kyle's turf. Either I have to deal with Kyle, or I have to resist turning on my gift so I can finally feed Dillan his balls on a plate."

Signe snirks under her breath. "I'll be back tomorrow. I have some business to take care of down here, anyway."

Davy nods. He glances toward the east, though no dawn shows through the grey clouds yet. "It is tomorrow."

Signe grins, though there's no humor at all in her eyes, "Then, maybe you should get her out of there."

Davy's grin is easier, and he hits the Get's shoulder a last time before turning away. "Maybe you're starting to think you're alpha." Still, he begins to walk back toward the Rialto. He jams his hands back in his pockets and hunches his shoulders against a sudden wind, with bite from the nearby water.

Signe snorts, turning in the opposite direction and disappearing into the shadows of the wharves.

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