She decides to go back to Billings

Flora’s mouth becomes lopsided. She looks at the tall structures from Billings and shrugs. “We might as well give it another try, right?”

You shrug too. “As long as we don’t get in trouble, I don’t see the harm in going again.”

She smiles. “Let’s cause some trouble. I am sure you’ll be able to get me out of it.” She says, beaming with confidence.

Getting into an altercation in Billings was the last thing you wanted. The people had notoriously low tolerance to ****, especially from outsiders. You once saw a mob of people beat a caravan guard half to **** when he snapped at one of their own for stepping on his toes.

Your thought process breaks when she nudges you. “I’m kidding. Let’s go again, but let’s continue to stay under their radar… And we should go out again for dinner, just so we’re not just draining what we have at the shelter, okay?”

Once again, you take Bill. The cold doesn’t seem to have bothered him that much, but you figure if it continues to get any colder you’re either going to end up selling him to Billings or finding a way to keep him from dying above ground. The gentle ride in was not interrupted by either choice of subject or pestering city guards. They let you in with no more than a single glance. Flora’s friendly/clean appearance negates all negative thoughts and ideas, even with someone who looks as rough and beat as you. You’re about to go to the same spot as before, but she grabs the reins and guides Bill further down the street.

“Let’s go someplace instead.” She protests, yanking the leather completely from your hands. Bill snorts and quickens somewhat, making her pause and wait before she continues. “I want to find some place new and exciting!”

Bill seems to listen to Flora’s demands. Before long, he breaks into a trot, bringing you to the center of the city. “Heeey, slow down.” Flora’s moves, tugging on the reins to adjust his speed again. You both look around, seeing a wide variety of shops and buildings, as well as characters and guards. There are different smells here which are more inviting than the ones at the gates. You couldn’t recall this when you first traveled through. It also seems much more lively and interactive; more civilized and grounded.

Flora continues to survey, looking around as she manages Bill. She tugs left and right, bringing him close to the windows so she can peer inside. After about a dozen attempts to find what she is looking for, you stumble over a smaller store that provides coffee, pastries, club sandwiches and salads… the store looks humble and bears the name QUIKKI'S STOP.

“Let’s go here,” Flora says. “I like the sound of this place.”

… “Quikki’s…?” You did not recall seeing this before either, but you didn't exactly look around Billings that much during your stay. There was a good chance you missed it all together.

“Yeah.” She quietly chimes as she maneuvers around the saddle.

You follow her inside after securing Bill to a nearby hitching post. You slip into the store and are greeted by a sweet smell. It isn't candy, you quickly concur, but more like a nostalgic scent of a long-passed memory that highlighted breakfast with mom. While your mind spun with blurry faces, you looked around, unexpectedly admiring the interior of the building. It was as warm as it was welcoming. There are taxidermy pheasants and foxes along the walls, posed in realistic stances, paintings of cabins trapped in a state of the brightest stage of autumn, a collection of old muskets line the wall that date further back before the war that tore Earth into pieces. The tables, as well as the chairs, were made of real lumber, when you got close to one of them, you could smell the pine radiating from it. Then, in the corner, you saw a Blue Heeler resting with its eyes closed. Flora started to unravel into a conversation with the clerk, ordering for herself as she peered up at the chalkboard menu above. You step away from the dog and regroup with her to order too. All you do is copy what she got.

Your food is served in a brown paper bag, which is crinkly and feels somewhat flimsy. You hid your worry pretty good, but you were sure the bag was going to rip down through the bottom. However, the integrity is better than your prediction, as it holds the contents of your order without fault. In unison, you sit across from each other and open the bag. Warm air escapes the top, brushing your faces with not just warmth, but also the smell of food. Wrapped in parliament paper, a heated sandwich with toasted bread is produced from the sack.

Without any delays, you continue to unintentionally mimic each other’s actions. Bite, chew, swallow, moan. The only time your mirroring finally ceases is when Flora reaches for her cup of water. “This was definitely a good choice.” She purrs, winking at you.

You clean your teeth with your tongue as you tentatively bite the remaining pieces of food. “It’s good,” you admit.

The bright of her eyes is ignited by the sun as soon as it cuts through the overcast. Again, you find yourself captivated by her. She notices your staring rather quickly and then darts a finger at you.

“Stop staring at me.”

You suddenly felt a little warmer. “You look content.”

She looks around. “Well, I’m not. It’s just different here. I wouldn’t have been caught dead in a place like before. So uselessly rustic and ****.”

You check the surroundings, not getting the same idea as she. “You honestly think that?”

She raises her eyebrows and narrows her slits as she tilts her chin down. She looks incredibly displeased with your reply. “What would I possibly gain for lying about the interior of the structure?”

“You chose it, didn’t you?”

She leans back, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “You’ll never understand.”

Your expression must’ve darkened, because she blinked and adjusted her staring someplace else shortly after saying that. Despite her rough introduction to the real world, it seems that her rich taste and pampered upbringing has her second-guessing the standard beyond her own. Nonetheless, you continue to chat until your meals are finished and you are able to leave.

Upon returning, you find that the shelter had been untouched, a good indication that neither your “friends” or any strangers came back during your absence. Flora plops herself back down on the couch and continues her book. It looks to be looking a little thin now, what will she do once she’s done with that?

You sit down too. You continue to field strip and clean your gear. You dry fire and make the slightest of adjustments between your tinkering. There’s more small talk, some more laughs, and then some more silence. Dinner time can’t come fast enough. You burn the time by resting against the wall and closing your eyes, silently thinking to pass the hours until Flora either stirs or wakes you to leave back for Billings.

…

...

“Warren,” Your name is being called. The voice is soft, but you don’t open your eyes. The same voice clears their throat. “Warren!”

This time, your eyes shoot open. You’re outside the shelter and inside a...very nice looking bedroom. You blink and squint. You’re so warm you don’t even want to get out of the covers. You close your eyes and let your head fall back down onto the pillows beneath you.

“...Warren, wake up please.”

Remembering you weren’t alone to begin with, you finally look left and see that there’s a girl in the bed with you. You jump out of the bed and apologize. It’s Astrid!

She smiles brightly, flashing her perfect teeth at you. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I brought you here!”

You stammer, straightening your shirt. You always felt so embarrassed being around her for some reason, despite the peace and sense of safety she gave you. She could do better than you, A LOT better. Yet, here she was, reaching out to comfort you in your time of rest. She stood on her knees and walked over to you.

The room was well-lit by the world outside. It was white. It looked as though you were on the surface of the sun with how bright it was, but the ambient temperature told you were someplace...normal and like before, oddly familiar. “What...did I die?”

She smiles again, shaking her head as she hugs you. “Of course not. You’re sleeping and I decided to visit you again. You’re about to...have a little bit of a hard time ahead is all.”

“Should I be scared?”

Her smile fades as she studies you for a moment. “You’ll do what you do best.”

“What is that exactly?”

The corners of her lips curl slightly. “Trust me. You’ll know.”

Hearing something like this would have made you a little nervous, but having this come from Astrid made it seem like it was nothing more than receiving a simple note. You nod and thank her for the heads up. You hug her back and then smile. This felt so natural. She ought to be your intimate lover or your best friend; you couldn’t decide which worked better.

“We only have a minute together,” she said. “You’re going to wake up in about 20 minutes.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask.

“A minute in the world of you mortals is about 20 minutes here, give or take.” She answers.

“How would you like to spend your minute?” she continued.