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JAN 27, 2150 DAY ONE HUNDRED THIRTY SEVEN ON THE GROUND
THE SKY WAS A SHADOWY, SUNLESS GRAY; THE DEAD GRASS ENSHROUDING THE EVEN GRAYER ARKADIA ONLY adding to the lifeless air that hung about this particular afternoon.
The only thing even a little lively to be found for miles beyond their defenses was Fallon Walsh's sunny demeanor. She waltzed leisurely up to their gates on the pleasantly obedient horse they'd seized from the newly deceased Azgedians, Raven sitting closely behind her on the large animal. Miller trotted awkwardly by, cursing at his less obedient stolen horse as he tugged ineffectively on its matted mane; flipping a bird to Fallon when she snickered at him.
The two girls had been riding mostly in comfortable silence for their entire journey back, occasionally bickering over nothing or discussing Jasper's wretched state; Fallon twisting around in the front to make sure of her here and there. Like clockwork, the 18 year old glanced over her shoulder at the brunette, who quickly snapped her gaze away from where she'd already been staring at the back of her head.
Fallon smiled smugly, looking forward again. "I'm ready to accept an apology whenever you're ready to give one."
"An apology?" the mechanic's voice was amused behind her, and Fallon could envision the look on her face. The tick of her brow, a classic wisenheimer Raven Reyes smirk, the tilt of her head.
"Yeah, you know. For when you were acting like an asshole earlier." the Walsh girl shrugged simply.
"Huh." There was a knowing beat. "Well I guess as an asshole, it would be off brand for me to give you a gift. So I'll just keep this to myself."
Raven grinned, envisioning the look on the blonde's face; furrowed brows, an overly-serious frown, inquisitive and prematurely frustrated eyes.
She didn't have to use her imagination for long. Fallon's head snapped over her shoulder, straining her neck to try and see what the mechanic was pulling from the pocket of her puffy red jacket she always had on.
"Eyes on the road, Goldilocks." she lifted her hand, playfully pushing her by the jaw to turn her head back forward again.
"Get your grimy paws off my face!" Fallon jerked herself away, a sliver of ire passing through her chestnut eyes. "Enough with the dramatics already, just—" she interrupted herself with her own, highly dramatic gasp, when Raven reached around her, offering up a rusted Swiss Army knife.
