Snippet #2488782

"Whelp, I guess it's settled. We'll head...." Bandit extended a hand, an old expression of respect and trust. 'Neither of those is really high on the list of adjectives I would use right now.' Ignoring the extended palm, Terrence instead stared intensely at Bandit's expression and studied it for any signs of ill intent. If there were any, the distrustful man could not discern them.

"Thank you stranger for your help. I'm sure...." As her face rushed forward for reasons unknown, Terrence instinctively pulled his head away from her encroaching lips. Terrence imagined the sickly smell of copper escaping her mouth, memories of the town massacre still fresh in his mind. His lips curled in a disgusted fashion, eyes betraying both immense worry and distrust. 'No no. No no no. No.'

"We do not know that. You might have been just fine without my help. Just please refrain from being in mortal danger again, please."

"And of course I trust him. Who willingly...." Bandit almost seemed to poke fun at Terrence for being 'sincere', something that had not occurred to him as being a large part of his personality at all. 'Pragmatic would be a more accurate word.' Scanning the surroundings once more, Terrence tried to formulate some kind of plan to ditch these two some time in the night that wouldn't immediately put them into danger.

"And to be completely fair, I would not have taken her anywhere if I knew she and said madman were friends. Soldier, you did not see the ungodly amount of blood and guts that guy was covered in. Really starting to regret leaving a note as well."

"Well, lead the way good sir!" Bandit checked herself over and grabbed something shiny from the ground. 'Must be the knife she dropped. Hope she decides not to stick me with it.' As she came to stand behind Terrence in some 'follow the leader' formation, the young Numinu shook his head.

"Stand beside me as we walk, not behind. My eyes are tired and you just happened to have the best power nap that shamanic medicine can provide; you can help make sure we do not run into anything in the front." 'Plus it will allow me to see if you pull something on me in my peripheral vision, madman's friend.' Shouldering his Paciencia and checking the looseness of his side arm, Terrence turned to the soldier and spoke.

"My name is Terrence, Son of Two Peoples. Hunter, Translator, Tribesman. If you want to use that thing, I suggest you wait for a Mirelurk to show up. Then we can have something other than the dry Molerat jerky stored at the outpost. Any objections to moving out, soldier?" 'Oh, I always wanted to say that.'