Snippet #1395170

As Abby drummed her fingers against the table, listening intently to any other details Mustang was willing to spare; a faint, strong chill traced up her back and caused her to involuntarily shudder. She made a small, indignant noise and froze in place, fingers paused in mid-air as the muscles in her jaw jumped. Her patience was only wearing thin—it was always thin, a mere thread—and she knew who had caused such a alchemic breeze. In a matter of moments, she'd dwindled the chances down to zero percent that a breeze could miraculously enter the building, let alone the mess hall which was the heart of the State building. Not to mention the fact that she'd read Mareth's case file while snooping in one of the head offices, years before she was granted her promotion. Her mouth worked to protest, her hand curling into a tight fist and she all but contained the urge to turn on her heel and plant it into the side of Mareth's cheeky face. Mustang was looking at her, eyebrow raised with a faint smile playing on his lips. As if he was waiting for her patience to snap in two. No, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Abby cleared her throat, holding her clenched fist in front of her lips. “Chilly in here,” She commented, her voice tipped with poison and oozing sharp daggers. She would deal with Mareth when out of Mustang's hawkish gaze. She hadn't even spared him a glance, though she could see him from her peripherals. A small twitch of her finely shaped brow was the only indication of her annoyance. She accepted the train ticket, folded it neatly and shoved it into the depths of her jacket pocket. “Sergeant Major Holified?” She enquired softly, under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. Exchanging a glance with Isaac, she nodded her head and shot Mareth a glare when Isaac mentioned not showing off their alchemy. With the grace and fluidity only a feline could possess, she saluted Mustang. ““As long as there's something important to protect,” she added, stalking off towards her office without as much as another word to Mareth. Things would be dealt with away from Mustang, without interruptions.

It wasn't long after that the group gathered in front of the building, suitcases and small packages in hand. Abby added her own things to the laden trunk and smiled softly, shrugging her shoulders. And then they gathered into the vehicle, driving along in comfortable silence. Shortly after, they arrived at their destination: the train station. She gathered herself up, carrying her one small suitcase and lead them through the building. As they stepped out onto the platform, Abby spotted the other addition fairly quickly. Even if she'd never met Holifield before, his battle-worn appearance wasn't hard to miss. Her lips curled into a slight smile as she approached, and she returned his salute. “Lieutenant Colonel Absinthe Riddley. Abby, for short,” she introduced, thumbing her finger in her companions direction. “And that's Lieutenant Isaac and Mareth Hughes, Wind Specialist.” Finally, she clapped her hands together and motioned towards the train, gathering her suitcase back into her gloved hands. Niceties would have to wait.

“Now, let's get this show on the road.”