For the lovely Sie.

The pair of travelers had hunkered down in the long-dead city for a few days now. Renato seemed content enough lingering there for now, relishing in exploring the concrete jungle. He was still baffled that the residents of this area were content to spread themselves thin and live in packs, rather than take up the reins and settle into the outskirts of old cities and villages. He seemed to have taken a rather clinical interest in the people of this area and the culture here that differed so much from the one he had grown up with. As long as it distracted him from bothering Lucia about continuing to seek out her family, it made no matter to her.

It was a clear night, the stillness of the dead city almost unsettling. Lucia was surprised at how quickly she had readjusted to the quiet sort of energy that the forests and hills of Nova Scotia boasted, but even now the city was far too still for her tastes. While she had visited the place numerous times growing up, she had only ever stuck around for a few hours at a time, never lingering through the night. Renato had dozed off rather quickly that night, curled up on a pile of blankets and furs inside what had once been a convenience store. Sleep wouldn’t visit her so easily however. As much as she wanted to blame it on the eeriness of the city, the truth was that the Marino was beginning to suffer from some insomnia in the last few weeks.

She disentangled herself from the wild mass of makeshift bedding the pair had created, grabbed her guitar from where it sat on a nearby table, and then quietly made her way outside. She stopped at an old stone bench on the curbside a few buildings down from where they were staying, unceremoniously dropping herself onto it. The guitar was settled onto her lap and she strummed a few lazy notes before letting her fingers dole out an impromptu melody.