The Feral Eclipse tour bus was parked behind the rickety main stage, now silent except for the distant clatter of churro wrappers rustling in the breeze and someone drunkenly singing the national anthem near the dunk tank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside the dim glow of the bus lounge, the air was thick with exhaustion and cinnamon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mark had already disappeared into his bunk, muttering something about \u201cchurros and poor life decisions.\u201d
Cassie and Maya were flopped on the couch, eyes half-lidded, slowly devouring the world’s soggiest fairground nachos.
Gabriel sat cross-legged on the carpet, bass on his lap, absentmindedly cleaning the churro sugar off his fretboard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when the bus door clicked open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thane, sitting closest, looked up immediately \u2014 ears twitching, nostrils flaring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He caught the scent before the figure even stepped inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nVandal Saints. Bret\u2019s scent. But\u2026 different. Quieter. Less rage, more\u2026 nerves.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
It was Lance<\/strong> \u2014 the Saints’ bassist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soft-spoken, slightly hunched, and carrying himself like a guy who\u2019d been shouted at a lot<\/em> in the last 24 hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took one step into the entry vestibule\u2026 and stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because Thane was already there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Standing.
Staring.
Blocking the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\nOne brow raised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance froze like a rabbit who’d just realized it walked into the wrong den.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\u201cI \u2014 uh. I\u2019m not here to start anything.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
Thane didn\u2019t blink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance cleared his throat. \u201cI just\u2026 wanted to talk to Gabriel. If that\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A long pause.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Thane gave a slow nod \u2014 not approval, exactly, but not denial.<\/strong> A kind of conditional tolerance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stepped aside with a low grunt. \u201cDon\u2019t make me regret this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance swallowed hard and stepped through to the lounge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel looked up, blinking. \u201c…Woah. Didn\u2019t expect to see you.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance scratched the back of his neck, awkward. \u201cYeah. I know. I wouldn\u2019t blame you if you told me to get lost. I just\u2026 I wanted to say sorry. For Bret. For, like, everything.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel blinked, then gave a small smile. \u201cMan, he\u2019s a whole hurricane. Not your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance nodded, still shifting awkwardly. \u201cThanks. I just\u2026 I mean, I\u2019ve been watching your playing. You\u2019ve got this fluidity, this\u2026 groove. Even when things are insane, it\u2019s like the notes don\u2019t care. You anchor<\/em> the sound.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel grinned, ears perking up. \u201cYou notice that? That\u2019s… yeah. Thanks, man. Means a lot coming from another bassist.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance hesitated. \u201cAlso\u2026 I gotta ask. What\u2019s it like<\/em>? Being a werewolf, I mean. Does it change how you hear music? Or feel it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel\u2019s grin softened. He looked over to Thane, who had quietly stepped closer again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thane answered first, voice quiet but firm. \u201cYou feel it deeper.<\/em> Not just sound, but pressure. Tension. Pulse. It gets inside you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel nodded. \u201cIt\u2019s like\u2026 every note you play, every vibration in your spine \u2014 it\u2019s part of your body. Like music\u2019s not something you make, it\u2019s something you are.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance just stared at both of them for a long beat, then exhaled slowly. \u201cMan. I thought I loved bass before.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel chuckled. \u201cYou still can. You don\u2019t need fur for that part.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thane grunted softly. \u201cBut it helps.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That earned a small laugh from Lance, nervous but genuine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pick with the Saints logo on it, and offered it to Gabriel. \u201cIt\u2019s cheap merch plastic. But\u2026 thanks. For not ripping my throat out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel took it. \u201cNo promises next time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lance laughed again \u2014 then backed toward the door, nodding at Thane. \u201cThanks for letting me through the wall.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thane gave him a faint, almost-smirk. \u201cThe goat still owes us rent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nLance left quietly, vanishing into the shadows of the midway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside the bus, the mood settled again \u2014 comfortable, quiet.
Gabriel twirled the pick between his claws and muttered,<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\u201cSee? Not all Saints suck.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n
Thane didn\u2019t reply. But he didn\u2019t argue either.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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