the last pale light in the west Who: Gray Wolfe and Rodeo Hawkins Where: The Council Chambers What: Two leaders talk. When: Evening, July 29th.
in my hands i hold the ashes, in my veins black pitch runs in my chest the fire catches, in my way the setting sun and i ask for no redemption in this cold and barren place still i see the faint reflection, and so by it i go my way.
There are many places that Rodeo holds dear in this camp, but his favorite out of all of them is the Council Chambers. The Chapel is sweet and his trailer is home, but the temper tent where his officers meet is nothing short of sacred. They have never held congress with a foreign faction inside their own walls, so Rodeo asking Wolfe to meet him here is a first-- the only ones to have ever stepped foot in this place are officers and their women, and the woman he thought would be his own, a long time ago. But Rodeo believes this is the right move. As cozy as his trailer is, he doubts Wolfe will find himself comfortable cramped in the booth seat at his kitchen table. What they're about to discuss is heavy shit, the kind that requires a quiet retreat and a sturdy surface. The table his Sergeant at Arms built is the sturdiest surface Rodeo knows. This tent is the only place for this meeting.
His interactions with Wolfe and the shelter he runs have been minimal and brief before this. But Rodeo has always had a keen eye for a good man, and there was no doubt in him that Gray Wolfe was his kind of people. Meeting him might have proved it, but to Rodeo the proof was already there in the way Wolfe runs his shelter. It would be easy to crawl into bed with the Mayor the way UMCB has done, and Rodeo is sure that Olinger has tried his best to woo Wolfe with resources and equipment. The man has kept his shelter independent and his people free, and that means he knows the score. If he wasn't sure before, he damn well must be now. The Mayor has his own agenda, and his moves have never been for the good of Austin. Only for the good of his regime.
Rodeo hopes this is the conclusion that Wolfe has drawn on his own, but just in case he's ready to offer some proof. He waits outside the locked entrance to the Council Chambers, leaning back against the door and the carved wooden sign that hangs there-- the face of a snarling wolf framed by the words OFFICERS ONLY. TRESPASSERS MEET THEIR MAKERS. He nurses his cigarette while he waits, glancing up at the wide sky over the Dog Park. All this open air might not provide the best protection against the gas, but Rodeo knows he and his crew wouldn't trade it for walls even if they could. This blue yonder is where they belong.