[It's just like being at home, in some ways: in a world with no streets or sensible directions, a map is the only way to communicate where things are, and people leave them so their loved ones can find valuables if they die. (And they do often die; how many times have she and Joel frisked a map off of a corpse?) She suspects, however, this one isn't going to lead to a cache of miscellaneous screws, manuals, and bullets. She does have to find out.
It's a long path, but it's nice to have something to do. She's not sure what to expect. The last time she went on a hunt like this, she came to in the infirmary with a Magic 8 Ball as a souvenir. It could always happen again.
She's relieved, then, to find the room William has left her, and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth when she sees the lamp. She knows it's his work well before she sees his handwriting. She thumbs at a flower petal; it's real, of course, but they're still a novel sight. Standing there, note in one hand, she types out a message with the other:]
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It's a long path, but it's nice to have something to do. She's not sure what to expect. The last time she went on a hunt like this, she came to in the infirmary with a Magic 8 Ball as a souvenir. It could always happen again.
She's relieved, then, to find the room William has left her, and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth when she sees the lamp. She knows it's his work well before she sees his handwriting. She thumbs at a flower petal; it's real, of course, but they're still a novel sight. Standing there, note in one hand, she types out a message with the other:]
Surprised you remembered. Thank you.