Dove woke to some gentle slapping. His head ached, throbbed even.
"You up?"
Dove opened his eyes to see the geezer leaning over him. "What happened?"
"The grimm were fended off. Though, apparently, someone got so mad, it caused a lot of the grimm nearby to just lose their gourds."
"Yeah, sounds about right." Sighed Dove as he leaned back. "So, what happened?"
"We fought them off, and thankfully, no casualties." Monger looked up and away, eyes glazing as he looked out of the window. "Except for the sheer amount of rockets used to bring down the Leviathan. Good men." His arm came up in a trembling salute.
"Okay… sure, all of this makes sense." Lied Dove. "Right…"
Monger's eyes snapped back. "You must be tired. You went on a sort of rampage yesterday."
"I what?"
"You sort of just went ballistic on the Manticore that flew into the city. Started pounding on its face with your fists until you punched through its eyes with your fists before you dropped like a rock into the ocean." Explained Monger. "No idea what made you like that. Why didn't you just use your sword?"
"I have a theory, but I'm not exactly comfortable with it."
"And that is?"
"Have I explained what my semblance is?"
Monger tilted his head as he thought for a moment. "Yeah. Grimm vision, right?"
"Yeah. Though, it may have messed with my mind for a moment."
"Since you can literally feel anger, with it up," nodded Monger. "You've explained it to me."
"Probably scrambled my eggs for a bit. I've never felt someone that angry before."
"Me neither." Admitted Monger. "Last time I've seen someone that mad was before this whole mess."
"I know, right?" Agreed Dove, before he adopted a solemn look on his face. "Man, speaking of which, I miss my mom."
Monger's fat fingers patted Dove's shoulders. "I don't think you ever stop missing your mom." Then he paused to think. "Unless she's terribly abusive or you never met her."
"Right." Dove shifted uncomfortably. "So, when are we heading out?"
"Honestly, not sure." Monger stated as he led Dove to the window. "The Leviathan hasn't finished disintegrating."
And there it was. The giant mass of black flesh was bloated and floating, blocking access to the ocean for a majority of the boats. "That's a big boy."
"It really is a big boy. Real fat one. Hide thick as blubber. How did you think he got so big?"
"Eating refugees escaping from or to Atlas?" Shrugged Dove.
"Sounds plausible enough." Monger turned and started prepping for his next meal. "Get ready for tomorrow. It might be small enough to get past then."
"Right, right." Nodded Dove. "Want any help with that?"
Monger slid a cutting board and a handful of misshapen tomatoes to a clear section of counter. "Of course. Glad to be cooking with someone."
