"How's that?" Morrison questioned because the southern accent was obvious.
"It's like the boss says," the rebel quoted Chaos, "you know you're home when you're willing to fight for it." The lad looked at Helen, "Right here's our home, Ma'am. We're here for you." Other rebels at the fire circle nodded in agreement.
Chaos entered the group and poured a steaming cup of tea from a metal pot poised at the edge of the fire. He looked around cautiously; lively discussion was absent here. He brought the tea to Helen. "Hi. I thought you might appreciate some warm, mint tea. Keep your gloves on, it's a little hot." He sat down beside her. "This time of day is nice. If there's cloud cover, we sit around the fire and shoot the bull. Someone usually has a comment about Crucible over there. With those freckles, it looks like he stood behind the wrong cow."
"Thank you." She smiled. The steamy cup radiated between her hands as she huddled to the glow of the campfire; damp March air swiped her back. The rebels' confirmation of their devotion to the Covenant's cause had suddenly bolstered her spirit. To that point, she had felt alone, many miles from home




