Snippet #2816379

Crunch, crunch, crunch went chunks of rock as little steps drummed along the graveled path. They had an accompaniment - the warbling of polyurethane wheels on loose stone. Eventually, there was a clatter, and the melody changed. Sounding much like the hiss of a gas-fed flame, the big black luggage bag rolled along on pavement now, tugged by a young woman not terribly much larger than it. Her wheels clicked on the concrete seams as she drew closer and closer to the door.

It seemed polite to knock, and so she did upon reaching the door, rapping her knuckles upon it and awaiting her invitation before carefully pushing it open. She stepped inside, heaving her suitcase in behind her.

Jet black hair, piercing blue eyes, cheap gray hoodie, expensive headphones. She moved with a certain grace, as if every motion was rehearsed, each segueing perfectly into the next. She wore a disposable face mask, but the clarity of her voice came through despite it.

"Hey! One moment, let me just put this away," she said, excusing herself to her room with case in tow. She wasted no time in returning. She pulled out one of the stools at the kitchen island with a soft skrrrn before seating herself upon it as instructed. Her eyes, like focused lenses, peered sharply and inquisitively at the man before her, keeping watch over his every move. She was polite, cordial, even friendly...but her alertness showed her guard was not yet lowered. Maybe she'd noticed the halo, or maybe that's just how she was - it was too early to tell. Briefly, the conversation awkwardly lulled, creating a silence disturbed only by the sounds of cooking and Bob Seger crooning in the background.

"Sorry, was it Aw-vee or Av-vee?" she finally inquired, seeking to ease the tension she'd helped create. "Okay, so just 'Avi.' Got it. I'm Ingrid. Just Ingrid. Nice to meet you," she continued.

She denied the handshake offered her, explaining it by pointing at her mask and motioning broadly. "Sorry. You know." Okay, well, that explained the mask, but what about the headphones? She'd been pleasant in most every other respect; why hadn't she taken them off yet?

"Could I trouble you for a glass of water? I don't know where anything is yet," she asked, with all the tone and grace of a Southerner, but none of the drawl. Where was she from? Her accent was...hard to place. This girl was already presenting mysteries, but at the very least, she had made efforts to get off on the right foot.