Peter was at a bit of loose ends for a few hours until dinner had gotten served. He wasn't sure where Caliban was, possibly still in the Cistern. He didn't know Caliban's phone number and even if he did, he didn't have a phone, so that wasn't much help.
He'd considered wandering around to find the Well room and see if he could yell down the well to get Caliban or Nimueh's attention, but in the end, Peter ended up spending his time in the dining area where the grass was coming in.
He realized that some of the roots burrowing through the dirt in that area were from the Tree-Man and the scent in this spot was due to some connection between the Grove's ventilation and this one. He sat in silence, watching the Morlocks passing by. Some had errands of their own. Others whiled time away simply sitting, reading, playing board games, or simply doing nothing. Peter noted more supplies, particularly the tarp covered carts from the Rat Ranch were being brought into one of the structures that had a set of Western saloon style double doors.
After a while the tables were set up once more where the breakfast line had been and a new set of food was brought out in the big, turkey fry sized cooking pots. Peter could smell a heavy savory aroma from the pots. Some kind of stew. Most likely involving rat meat. Peter considered it and he could skip eating. Then again there was no point delaying the inevitable and he lined up for his rat stew.
He had to admit, it smelled very good. He wasn't sure what was in it, but it had soft chunks of meat floating in a red broth. He smelled tomatoes, basil and some other less identifiable herbs in it, but some of the floating bits of green looked like they might have been Tree-man leaves. There were uneven chunks of soft yellow-white that he guessed could have been potatoes. The water dispensers were out again and there were freshly baked rolls in shallow wooden trays.
Peter served himself, giving the Morlocks who were manning the food stations friendly nods. Chicken wing was with the rolls this time. Another shabbily dressed Morlock in layers of shirts and jeans, with a very ape-like face, ladled stew into the bowls.
Peter walked back to the tables and found himself being waved at by someone he'd seen at breakfast. A girl with long hair who seemed to be almost entirely paper white, save for a rainbow gradient that bled from her face and into a band of her hair.
He tilted his head slightly, as she flashed him a friendly grin and beckoned him over. The other occupants at the table didn't seem to mind, but were looking at him curiously.
Two of the occupants at the table were immense, green men, they were both almost, but not quite as tall as Sunder. Neither wore a shirt, and as he got closer, Peter realized that green skin was actually close-cropped bright green fur, with a slight difference in shade, so one of them was a slightly lighter green than the other. They were both barefoot and wore ill-fitting jeans. They sported wild, uncombed manes of greenish blonde hair that included some immense side-burns.
Also sitting with them was a smaller man. He was squat and built thickly, like a fireplug, but he was dressed in a dark brown suit that was covered in stains. He was wearing a pair of large, dark glasses covering his eyes. Almost his entire face was covered in thick, bristly hair that formed a beard that crawled more than halfway up his cheeks. That same bristly hair continued up to his scalp, leaving only a small bald spot at the top of his head.
"You're Dumas, right?" The girl with the rainbow face asked.
Peter nodded, "Yes."
"I'm Tommy," She said, touching her chest. She pointed to the smaller man, "That's Mole."
The now named Mole nodded in acknowledgement, but turned his attention fully back to his meal.
She gestured to the two men who Peter was now convinced were twins of some sort. "That's Bruce," Then she pointed specifically to the one with the lighter colored fur, "And that's Humphrey."
Bruce grumbled in the cracked and broken voice of a teen-ager, "I wanna be called Brute."
"And I'm Hump." His brother affirmed, in an equally high and squeaky voice.
Up closer, discounting their sizes, Peter realized that both boys still had very rounded, baby-ish features. He'd thought they were simply young-looking, but he'd be surprised if they were older than fourteen.
Tommy grinned. "You're coming with us on the supply run. I'm looking forward to working with you."
Brute and Hump both nodded, a little sullenly. Mole seemed to continue to mostly ignore them for his food.
Peter took a seat and smiled easily at Tommy. "Sure. This is kind of last minute for me, so what exactly is this going to involve?"
He took a sip at his stew while he waited for an answer and found it to be good. Warm and savory. Not at all how he expected rat meat to taste like.
Tommy shrugged. "Yeah, well that's where it's a little dicey. Sunder's normally in charge of these thi–"
Mole looked up from his bowl, focusing the dark lenses of his sunglasses on Peter. "Since Sunder's out and the rest of you are a bunch of kids, I'll take the lead on this supply run." His voice was a soft bass rumble. It was like a rich, throaty purr of an oversized cat shaped awkwardly into words.
Peter eyed him for a long moment and he caught a twinge of prey in the other man's demeanor. Someone desperately trying to seem stronger, but knew in his heart that he was weak.
"Hey, that's not how it works!" Hump complained.
Brute nodded. "Yeah! Dumas beat Sunder, so he should be in charge!"
Peter raised both hands, noticing the smaller man was beginning to flinch back from the two very large teens' squeaky indignation. Even Tommy seemed a little agitated. Peter would guess she was older than he was, but certainly not by much. "Hey, hey. I've never been on a supply run, so like I said. I don't know how it works. I don't mind if Mole is in charge." He scanned around the table. "You guys have all been on these before, right?"
All of them nodded in turn, Mole a bit more reluctantly, before Peter asked, "So what is the plan?"
Mole looked around the table and Peter could almost feel the surprise radiating off of the smaller man. It was clear he'd just voiced the claim for leadership pro forma. He hadn't actually meant it. By what he could see from the man's expression, it didn't seem he even really wanted it.
Mole looked distinctly uncomfortable and glanced around the table once more. "Uh… well… usually Sunder would just…" He made vague gestures with his hands, that Peter noted were not only extremely hairy, but were tipped with small claws. "Tommy's on lookout, cause she's tough to notice–"
Peter glanced towards the girl. She held a hand up, then turned it and Peter realized that it had vanished from view. "I can flatten myself. Like become as thin as a sheet of paper. If i'm against a wall, I kind of look like graffiti. If someone looks at me edge on–"
"They can't see you. I got it." Peter nodded in understanding, then looked to Mole once more. "What was Sunder's part?"
"Sunder usually just kicked the door in. He just had me make things penetrable if he didn't want too much noise."
Peter looked at the man curiously. "Penetrable?"
Mole's voice took on a bit more animation as he spoke. "Yeah. I can energize things. Make them out of phase for a bit. Lets me make them pass through them."