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Jackie turned to face the younger woman, briefly concerned.

“Sure,” Jackie said, dusting the soot from her hands. Scarlet had always had a way with the kids, always helping Jackie and Trotter maintain order and some semblance of discipline. She had said that each scar was a mark of her strength, because she had survived them. At first, Jackie had been angry at the younger kids for the name, but Scarlet had, surprisingly, taken to it. The kids always called her Scar, on account of the numerous scars lining her arms, neck, and face from the belt of a man who should never have had a daughter. Scarlet had been with her since the beginning, and even then, would probably have been old enough to venture into the Waste alone. Hardly a kid, really, Jackie thought suddenly. Jackie turned her head around to see Scarlet, a centaur woman and the oldest of the kids at the ranch. Jackie had just finished extinguishing the pit fire they had cooked dinner on when she heard a soft voice from behind her. With the excitement of the day and the now-fulfilled promise, Trotter’s threat no longer carried much weight, and so the arguments flared up, and Trotter, exasperated, chased the children throughout the Ranch, trying to calm everyone down, but doubtlessly achieving the opposite effect. Games were played and fun was had until the next set were sent to bed, and then the next. Once Trotter’s show ended and the kids had given more than enough applause, they had a pleasant meal outside in the fine weather before the youngest of the children were ushered off to bed by those slightly older. Even now, Trotter couldn’t resist upstaging everyone else on stage. The red-eyed woman had to keep herself from laughing. Trotter had even enlisted some of the more eager children to join him in the show, although Jackie noticed their parts were particularly small. But the white-furred performer still danced like a dream, even on the make-shift stage the kids had put together for him just out the back door. Jackie smirked all the way through, recognizing all those moments where, had the audience been a bit older, things would have gone a little differently. Everything was going well.Īnd so, that evening, as promised, Trotter put on a show for everyone. Little Tob had fallen off an acridian, but with a little coaxing from the others, got back on and held on like a champion. Shooting practice had gone well several of the older kids were improving significantly. There was only one argument, and even that had died down the instant Jackie had walked into the room. The kids had, for the most part, behaved themselves, probably due to Trotter’s threat of cancelling the evening festivities if they didn’t. The day had been warm, but with enough of a cool breeze to prevent it from becoming uncomfortable.