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The air was quiet as the snow fell slowly over the streets of the North Vancouver ruins. Flakes falling by scores to freeze upon the streets or accumulate into piles upon the boulevards and rooftops. The two-headed radmoose -only one of which was active and alert, heavy hoofsteps on the snow causing it to crunch noisily with every step and every dig of the hooves as it sought the sparse food that lay beneath.

Over the decades of mutation, the moose had been forced to adapt its diet to what little existed in the world today, feasting upon the dead roots of trees, leftovers from predators, kelp and algae from the few, irradiated bodies of water around the city and eating the snow to keep itself hydrated when there was no water nearby. Now it was known as a radmoose, as the radiation exposure had caused the species to grow a second head, and a stump behind their right front leg that appeared to be the start of a fifth leg, but never fully developed and was otherwise useless. The second head varied between moose -some were alive and as active as the regular head, but most were brain dead and simply hung from the body, staring lifelessly into the distance.

Grant explained all of this to Veronica in detail as they tracked their prey across the upper edges of the city, where the mountains began. They were below Grouse Mountain now and, ironically, not far from the door of Vault 228 and the Grouse gondola where Grant had first met the vixen who now shadowed his every step, carrying a recently acquired shotgun in her paws as they went.

When finally, they tracked their prey, it was Grant who made the kill shot, taking the creature out with a single bullet as he shot the active head, the other having no function to the body. The creature toppled over with a satisfying fwump into the snow beside it.

"Nice shot." The Vixen commented as the two of them went to claim their hunt, holstering her pistol as they stood before the deceased Radmoose. "I've got to say, you're quite the marksman, Grant. Did you receive rifle training at some point in your life, or is this all raw talent?"

Grant slung the rifle across his shoulder as he answered. "Nope. Just lots of practice," he said. "And when you look at it, using a scoped rifle isn't so different from a scalpel. Steady hand, concentration, controlled breathing and above all else, do not rush."

"If I get my hands on a rifle -or a scalpel, I'll be sure to remember that." Ron returned with a nod, then looked down at the moose with a bit of a crinkle on her snout. "So, now that this thing's dead. We just going to haul it back to Grousetown or do we have to... skin it or whatever?" She asked.

"Skinning will be done back in town," replied Grant. "But, before we can even carry it, I'll have to bleed and gut it, or it'll be too heavy to carry." He produced a knife from his belt. "Might want to stand back -this won't smell pretty."

"Way ahead of ya, bucko," Veronica stated, already scooting away from the moose and looking away so that she didn't have to see what came next.

Grant stuck two wooden poles into the ground and proceeded to hang the moose from the poles by its legs, making sure it was upside down when he slit the necks to let the blood flow out freely. Soon, he began to gut the creature, displaying his surgical expertise in creating a clean, shallow cut in the creature's body and began to extract its organs carefully -especially the bladder, casting aside anything that he could not use.

As he worked, Veronica heard a blip on her Pip Boy, and looked at it to see two marks on the compass. Not green or red, but yellow, though they indicated someone was nearby. She looked around, seeing movement from the nearby houses -two people, watching them at a distance. They were armed, but none brought their weapons to bear as they stood partly in cover, seemingly not knowing she had seen them.

The Vixen slowly reached for her holstered sidearm, grasping it and hissing at Grant to get his attention. "Hey, eyes up. We got company." She whispered to the Buck. "To your three o'clock. Two of em hiding behind a tree."

Grant stopped his work, rising to his hooves and taking his rifle from his shoulder as he found the two. "Hostile?" he asked, having learned to trust the indicator on the Pip boy

"Hard to tell...they're showing up yellow on Pippy." She answered, pulling her weapon from her holster as well. "Whaddya think? We take the chance or just blow their brains out?"

"We'll try a warning shot for now, so that they know we're aware of them," he replied, levelling his rifle. "Standby," he said before his rifle shot split the air.

The bullet buried itself into the dead tree. Immediately, the two stirred. One of the blips on the pip boy turned to a hostile red, but the other turned green. That one turned to run, while the red stayed, only to change his mind and revert to yellow when he saw his companion flee, promptly following them as he lost his stomach for a fight. They dashed back out of sight, quickly, Veronica monitoring them until they moved beyond her range.

"We good?" Grant asked as he saw her relax her arm.

"We're clear." Ron returned with a small nod, placing her hands on her hips and grinning. "Took off with just one shot."

"They probably hoped to get us from behind, and without that gadget of yours, they just might have," the buck scoffed, lowering his rifle. "I would like to shake the hand of the genius who invented that thing."

"I know right? Damn thing's chalk full of gizmos it's ridiculous!" Ron agreed, lifting her arm again to study the derelict-looking, yet still very functional device. "I don't think even I know everything it can do yet."

Grant nodded, shouldering his rifle again. "At least it was just a pair of muggers. Easily dealt with."

"True." The Vixen agreed, though she didn't holster her pistol. "Still, let's stay on guard, in case they come back with friends."

"I'll try to work fast," Grant returned, turning back to the moose carcass and lowering himself to his knees as he retrieved his knife.

Ron once again turned away from Grant as he continued his work, keeping her pistol held at the ready in one hand, while occasionally glancing down at her Pip Boy to check for anymore blips in the area that she deemed hostile.

In time, Grant finished extracting the unusable moose innards, leaving only the edible meat. "All finished," he said, cleaning his knife and stuffing it back into its sheath before he grasped one of the poles and yanked it free. "Come hold this."

Ron holstered her pistol and turned back to Grant, taking the pole from him and holding it upright as the buck gathered up the rest of his tools, returning them to their carriers before he grasped the second pole, freeing it and instructing Ron further. "Now, bring the pole ends together. You take back, I'll take front."

"Yea, sure." The Vixen replied, following his directions, grunting with the effort of the full weight of the moose. "Fuck, this thing's still heavy even after gutting it."

"That means lots of meat," Grant stated with a hint of optimism, picking up his end and taking some of the weight for her. "Can you still see your Pip Boy? Don't want a yao guai smelling it and sneaking up on us when we get to the mountain."

"I've still got eyes on it." Ron assured the Buck, showing him that she still had a view of her Pip Boy's screen despite having her arms preoccupied in carrying the moose meat. "Let's get moving. I'm starting to feel a bit cold."

"Follow me, and match my steps," Grant bade her, shifting his rifle for a more comfortable carrying posture as they started on their way back to Grousetown.

~~~~~

It took Grant and Veronica some time to climb the mountain path to their home. Their progress was slowed as Veronica found herself needing to stop for a rest several times. Although it was not her first time climbing the 'Grouse grind' trail, she was not fully accustomed to the strain of making such a climb, especially with the additional weight she had to carry up with her this time. Grant changed their positions to put himself at the back, to take most of the weight, but still she struggled. Fortunately, she was stubborn enough to fight through the aches and keep going.

By the time they reached the top of the mountain, her legs felt as though she were bending steel whenever she moved them, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse into the snow and sleep until dawn. But she was nothing if not stubborn and pressed on to the twin's store, taking a seat in the corner while Grant handled the business matters, helping Simon carry the carcass into the back to cut it up, and returned to the counter to settle business matters with Tammy while Ron waited, catching her breath.

They had to wait a couple of hours before Simon returned, offering them several cuts of meet, the moose's pelt having been cut free of it. "Pleasure as always, Grant," Tammy said as the buck and vixen carried the meat out of the store.

"See you next time!" Simon added.

"Good night, you two!" Grant called back to them, shouldering open the door and holding it open with his hoof until Ron exited.

With that, the two began to make their way over to Marv's place, their arms filled with delicious-looking cuts of meat that Veronica was looking forward to sampling.

But as they approached Marv's inn, they came to an abrupt stop as the door to Marv's suddenly flew open, banging against the wall. Light spilled out from the entrance, shadows being cast from within, of two figures seemingly in a scuffle.

"Get outta here!" They heard the raspy voice of the ghoul-cat shouting. Within a count of the angry demand, a brown-furred canid was thrown clear out the door and sent plummeting face-first into a snowbank. "Try to steal my cap stash, will ya?! Lucky I don't stick this gun up your ass!" His threat was followed by a break-action shotgun that he threw out to the wolf, landing barrel-down in the snow next to him.

The brown wolf pulled himself free, spitting out the snow and glaring back at Marv. "Fuck you, zombie!" He yelled.

Marv slammed the door shut, ignoring any further insults from the wolf, who was already picking up his gun and about to head back tinto the inn. Grant set down his armload of meat, hand reaching for his rifle, but the wolf was stopped in his tracks when he pulled open the door and found the twin-barrels of a sawn-off shotgun aimed right for his head, Marv eyeing him coldly from inside the inn.

The wolf backed away a step, before he snapped his own gun forward to aim, pulling the trigger.

Nothing.

"This ghoul's no fool, dumbass. I took the shell out," Marv growled. "And unlike yours, mine has _two_shots." He fired at the ground by the wolf's feet, making him jump away. "Now beat it!"

The wolf sped towards the trail down the mountain, disappearing into the dark of the trees without another word.

Grant let out a chuckle. "And that is why you do not mess with Marv," he remarked.

Veronica shared the laugh, finding some amusement in what might have otherwise been a shocking scene, but she found herself becoming rather accustomed to this world she had stepped into -faster than even she dared hope. "I guess even in the irradiated boonies, crime still doesn't pay, eh?" She asked in a rhetorical manner.

"Not when the guy you try to rob has had two hundred years to get a feel for the place," Grant returned, retrieving his meat stack and resuming their approach.

Marv saw them approaching and held the door open for them as they neared. "Now that looks like a good catch there!" He said. "What'd you get?"

"Male radmoose -big one, too," Grant replied, ducking under the doorway to keep his antlers from catching.

"Should be able to last a week, depending on demand." Ron added, nodding in thanks to Marv as he held the door open for them. "You get those kinds of customers often?" She added, jerking her head towards the door as they crossed the bar.

"Bah, the dumbass wasn't even here to buy anything," said Marv, jerking his thumb inside towards a table where three others sat. "Arrived with that bunch there -caravanners, from Horseshoe Bay. Apparently, he was a Jet junkie, so they fired him after he collected his pay from them. He spotted my caps stash though and tried to nab it. Didn't get far though."

Veronica tilted her head slightly. "...Jet?" She asked inquisitively. "What is that, like the wasteland equivalent of Crack?"

"Precisely," Marv replied with a nod of approval. "Just as addictive too."

Ron stared back at Marv with a blank expression. "...Okay, I was not expecting to be dead on with that...I dunno if I should laugh or be a bit disturbed by the fact."

Marv shrugged, motioning her inside. "How 'bout I use some of that meat to make you a hot meal, eh?" He offered.

At that suggestion, Ron smiled and nodded back to the Ghoul. "Best idea I've heard all day. Lifting that hunk of meat worked up quite the appetite." She admitted, patting her stomach a little.

"Bring it into the kitchen and put it wherever Grant left his. I'll get started soon as I get those fellas their drinks," Marv instructed her, closing the door behind her as she stepped inside.

The Vixen nodded, picking up her portion of the Radmoose and dragging it into the kitchen. Once inside, she searched the kitchen and found Grant's portion of the meat, dragging hers over and letting it flop next to the other, clapping her hands and sighing before she turned and headed back into the bar, eagerly awaiting her next meal.

She found Grant already seated at the bar. He had taken off his duster and now leaned against the counter from his stool, relaxing as he waited for Marv to return. The Ghoul was over at the table with the three visitors, placing a bottle of beer before each of them. Now having time to look at them, she studied the three carefully -an avian, a vulpine like herself but male, and a feline, dressed in thick clothes for the weather. They talked quietly among themselves, and she could sense distress in their conversation. Not that it was any of her business.

Marv returned to the counter, stepping behind it before addressing Grant and Ron. "Something to drink while I cook the food?" He asked.

"I'll just have water, thanks." The vixen replied. "Not looking to get slammed tonight."

"Got plans to go somewhere?" Marv asked after Grant ordered a beer, retrieving it from behind the counter and turning to the water tank behind him, mug in hand.

The Vixen shrugged. "Nah not really. Just don't feel like booze right now." She replied.

Marv shrugged in return, filling the mug and placing it before her, and then walked back into the kitchen to prepare a meal for them.

"So, have you made any plans?" Grant asked. "About starting a life out here in the wasteland?"

Ron looked over to Grant in consideration for a moment, humming in thought as she sipped on her water. "...I guess I'm still trying to figure out what exactly I want to do... but I'm getting some ideas, I guess." She replied. "I'm good with a gun, so maybe I could do armed escort -it'd give me a chance to see more of the wasteland if I do some travelling."

"Can make good caps doing caravan work," Grant nodded in agreement. "And, Grousetown could always use another gun to keep the Yao Guai away -or the raiders if they ever bother to come up here."

"My thoughts exactly." She returned. "And I'm pretty confident that I can handle those naked ass bears. Especially now that I have this baby," she said, patting the shotgun leaning against the counter beside her.

"Make sure you make those shots count -ammo isn't easy to find out here," Grant warned. "If you're going to take up a gun for your profession you may want to learn how to make your own ammunition."

"Can you teach me?" Veronica asked.

"I'm afraid that's not part of my skillset," admitted Grant. "I get most of my bullets from Simon, and I'm pretty sure he makes them himself -maybe he can teach you."

Their conversation seemed to have caught the ear of the vulpine seated at the table, who was looking their way as the two took another swig of their drinks. He hummed and turned to his friends. "You know, those two look pretty capable. Think I just heard the lady say she's interested in caravan work," he said lowly to them.

"Didn't you see that vault suit, man? She's a rookie -fresh outta her cushy little hole in the ground," the avian returned dismissively. "She can't be that good."

"But the buck does look capable," the feline agreed, rubbing his chin. "A veteran and a rookie together, might as well have one trained soldier, eh?"

"It's better than our last choice, that's for sure," the fox returned. "If I'd known that creep was a junkie-"

"Doesn't matter, Vinny. But, we need to get back to Horseshoe Bay by tomorrow night," the cat replied. "Those two might be our only shot." He directed this to the avian, who groaned in reply, but slowly nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll go have a word with them, then."

Sliding his chair back, the feline -a gray-furred lynx, rose to his feet, adjusting his coat before making his way over to the bar. He cleared his throat to announce himself, bringing Grant and Veronica's attention to him. "Good evening," he said, politely.

"May we help you?" Grant asked.

"I could not help but overhear your companion mention an interest in caravan work," he remarked, gesturing to Veronica.

Grant chose to let Ron answer. The vixen studied the lynx inquisitively, arching an eyebrow. "What about it?" She asked. "You looking for some hired help?"

"Well, as you may have heard, that wolf that the proprietor pitched out the door was our guard," he said, pointing towards the front. "We were unaware of his... filthy habit, when he hired him on. We only became aware when we arrived here in Grousetown and caught him in the act behind our pack Brahmiin while we were in the local store."

"...The fuck's a Brahmiin?" Ron asked flatly.

"Before the war, they were called 'cows'," Marv called from the kitchen. "Until they grew a second head and became twice as big."

'Why does everything out here seem to be growing a second head?' Veronica thought to herself, remembering the Radmoose earlier.

She shook the thought out of her head and looked toward the lynx again. "So, need a replacement, eh?" Ron surmised, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "...I guess I could pitch in and lend a hand."

"Your friend as well?" The lynx asked, looking at Grant.

"I don't come cheap," the stern buck returned. "What's your offer?"

"Two hundred caps, apiece, if you will escort us all the way to Horseshoe Bay," the lynx replied.

Grant hummed in thought, eyes lowering to right side as he considered the offer. "Give us a moment," he said after a pause.

The lynx nodded, excusing himself to return to his table while Grant and Veronica talked it over between them. "Two hundred's pretty good for caravan work," the buck said. "Especially for people just getting into it."

"Can't argue with that." Ron agreed. "Though I imagine with your level of expertise, you ought to get more for your share if you want in on this." She stated. "What say to two fifty each? That should be a fair bargain eh?"

"We could suggest it," he returned, nodding in agreement. "It's a long trek through North Van to get to Horseshoe Bay."

"How long we talking -like... three, maybe four days?" She asked.

"Not quite that long -more like eight hours. But even though the raider colonies don't always come up this far, there's still danger. Yao Guai wandering about, Super Mutants, Feral Ghouls -could be anything out there."

"Jooooy." Ron rolled her eyes sarcastically before sighing. "...Let's start with three hundred and see what they think. If they don't like it, well haggle for two fifty." She suggested.

Grant nodded, turning back to the lynx and motioning him over. "We would be interested in taking the job. But what do you say to three-hundred caps apiece?"

The lynx grimaced, twitching as if he'd been hit. "That is quite a hike, sir," he said.

"As I said, I don't come cheap, and neither does my partner."

The lynx grimaced. "Are you sure you can't settle for two-hundred and twenty?"

"Two-eighty," Grant countered.

The banter continued, but the lynx was a hard bargainer. Eventually though, Grant managed to bring him to settle at two hundred and forty-five apiece -not quite what Veronica had hoped for but shy only five caps, so it was close enough. "Agreed," Grant finalized. "When will you be setting out?"

"We hope to be on our way tomorrow morning. We're tired from our trek across the mountains and need some hours to recuperate. But we do hope to make it home tomorrow."

Grant nodded. "We will be up at first light then, and leave whenever you are ready," he said.

"Excellent," the lynx returned. "Oh, before I forget. I did not introduce myself. My name is Carlos, or Carl if you prefer." He gestured to his partners. "The fox is Vincent, though he prefers 'Vinny' most days, and our winged friend is Ellis."

"Peter Grant," the buck introduced himself. "And this is my partner, Veronica."

"Sup boys." She casually saluted with a small smirk.

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you two in the morning, then," said Carl with a nod.

With that, he returned to his table and two friends, the three slipping into a quiet conversation. The fox cast a glance Veronica's way, smiling lightly, but when she didn't return it he looked back to his avian comrade when he was asked a question.

Grant turned to Ron. "Better make sure to bring your shotgun -we might need it, depending on what we run into out there."

"If you need me to, I can take a look at it -make double sure it's in good working shape," Marv offered.

"I may take you up on that." Ron returned to the Feral Ghoul. "In the meantime...I'm gonna get some shuteye. Gotta be at my best for tomorrow."

"Agreed. I should do the same," Grant returned, downing the last of his beer before he stood, retrieving his rifle and heading for the stairs. "See you in the morning, Marv."

"Sleep well, Grant. You too, Ron."

"Later, boys." Ron called as she and Grant headed to their rooms to retire for the night.

~~~~~

Sleep came easily to Veronica when she got to her room and stripped out of her Vault Suit, exhaustion overcoming her the moment she fell upon her bed and pulled the blankets over herself. She was asleep in record time, and despite the early turn in -early for her at least, she still awoke before it was light out, feeling refreshed.

The weather had not improved over the course of the night when Grant and Veronica met outside their rooms, bidding good morning and heading downstairs. They were up before the three merchants -which was fine, as it gave Ron time to have Marv look at her shotgun to OK it for the tip. Grant used the spare moment to go buy some extra ammunition.

The Ghoul was examining the weapon closely, studying the exterior of it for any signs of wear and tear. He smiled in approval as he recognized the model, nodding. "Remington 870 -a favorite of the armoured car companies that transported money around back in the day," he said, nodding. "Good choice, too -wooden pump kept it from freezing in the cold, which was important back then and even more so now."

He took a closer look at the hammer and let out a grunt. "Showing some rust here, but just a speck. Those raiders must've picked this one out of a case or something for it to be in this good of shape, eh." He picked up the shotgun, testing the pump with some effort. "Hm. A bit stiff -probably needs some lubrication. Hang on -I think I've got something for that." He set it back on the counter, moving over to the corner and reaching for a toolbox underneath, which he brought out and placed beside the shotgun.

Opening the toolbox, he produced a can with a spray nozzle that read G-96 on the front of it, bringing the nozzle to the side of the pump and spraying into the seams around it. He wiped it clean with a rag before picking it up and testing the pump again a few times. It responded to his pull with relative ease after the first few attempts, and he smiled in satisfaction.

"That ought to do it," he said, handing it back to Veronica. "You're good to go. Just mind the kick, eh -this thing'll knock you flat on your ass if you aren't ready for it."

"Thanks for the tune up." Ron said as she took the weapon back and slung it over her shoulder. "Shall I add this little touch up to my tab as well?" She returned jokingly.

"This one's on the house," he replied with a wink. "Having another gun around -especially with someone who knows how to use it, makes this town safer."

Ron chuckled and winked back at the Feral Ghoul. "Appreciate the continued help, Marv." She returned, casually saluting him.

The door opened and Grant stepped into the inn. "Ron, I got you some additional ammo," he said, walking over. "Full mag of tenners and a few twelve-gauge slugs. I could only get six of them, though so better make them count." He offered her the ammo.

Ron took the ammunition from Grant with a cocky grin on her face. "Jeez, is it my birthday or something? Feels like I'm getting spoiled here." She stated with a small laugh as she pocketed the slugs and slid the extra pistol magazine onto her belt. "Thanks, Bucko."

"Have to make sure you're equipped for the job," he said, nodding. "Those slugs will be handy if we meet anyone with armour or dense skin like a Super Mutant."

"How are you doing on ammo though?" Marv asked, regarding Grant.

"I've got about twenty-one .308 rounds, plus my knife," Grant replied. "Unfortunately, the twins and salvagers haven't been able to find any more. They're becoming a bit scarce."

"You better find yourself a backup weapon soon then or hope you can get a few rounds over in Horseshoe," Marv suggested. "Try looking for a nine-millimeter -those things were everywhere. Ammo for them should be easy to find."

"I'll keep in in mind," replied Grant. "Now we just need to wait for those caravanners and we're good to go."

"They better not sleep in for much longer." Ron commented as she tapped her foot against the floor impatiently. "I've been eager to see some new sights, and this job's my ticket to doing so."

"We're on their time, Ron, not ours," reminded Grant.

The vixen scoffed. "Ugh, fine... still, they better not take too long..." She said as she went to take a seat at a vacant table, putting up her feet.

"Maybe I should ask the salvagers to find a clock," Marv jested, trying to ease the tension.

"Preferably an alarm clock." Ron added, rolling with the joke. "One that gives off that annoying as hell buzzing sound when it goes off."

A few moments later, a door opened upstairs, and they looked up see Vinny stepping out of his room, yawning. He looked over the railing, seeing the three below. "Oh..." he said, before he turned to another, thumping on it with his fist. "Carl! Wake up you lazy furball -we're late!"

The door flew open a moment later, Carlos stumbling out. "I'm up, I'm up!" He sputtered. "I'll get Ellis -you get the Brahmin ready."

"On it."

"Bout time..." Ron muttered under her breath.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Vinny called as he thundered down the steps. "I guess we were more exhausted from our trip east than we thought. I'll tell ya about it on the way!" And then he was out the door, vanishing around the corner to the left.

A moment after, Carlos and Ellis came down the stairs, dressed and with weapons holstered to their belts. They thanked Marv for his hospitality before proceeding outside, followed by Grant and Veronica. The cold wind rushed over them as they stepped out to a dreary gray sky above. The snow had lightened to a mere frosting, but the howling wind still bit in, forcing Ron to resort to her balaclava mask and Grant to bring his bandana over his face, tucking his ears low.

The two-headed pack beast, body a red as a tomato, was brought out from its lodging behind the store, guided by Vinny, who was struggling to put on a mask of his own as he joined the others. He offered the reins to Carlos and took a spot on the beast's left as they headed towards the trail.

"We make a brief stop in Woodshade once we get down the mountain, and then our road takes us west," Carlos explained as they started down. "If the weather offers any mercy we should get there before dark."

"So where was it your caravan came from, before you arrived in Grousetown?" Grant asked Carlos.

"Our route home started in the Calgary ruins," the lynx explained. "Over the mountains along Highway One, which leads all the way there."

Grant looked with interest. "All the way from Alberta? That's a hell of a trip."

"But well worth it," assured the lynx. "There was a lot of fighting in Alberta during the war, over the oil sands. There are thousands of vehicles that are scavenged for their steel out there, so the metal is abundant. Perfect place to find tools, ammo, armour and such."

"So, you guys planning to return back there when you sell off your goods here in BC?" Ron asked. "Judging from what you just said, I would think you'd rather stay as far away from all the fighting as possible."

"Oh, my fair lady, there is far more fighting out there than you realize," Vinny chimed in. "Ammo is plentiful and a good thing too, for there are whole factions out there fighting over the metal. It may as well be Alberta's own variation of the Raider war here in Vancouver -only these aren't raiders. Most of them trace back to Vault Dwellers, others from Americans who came up from the south. A couple are a little more obscure, but they fight for salvage rights at the site of the Battle of Bowden in particular."

"Marv told me about that," Grant piped up. "One of the bloodiest conflicts in the war before the bombs fell. Chinese pushing their way north to the oil sands and met a thousand American and Canadian tanks on the way. Clashed just outside the community of Bowden -namesake for the battle."

"That'd be the one." Vinny confirmed.

"So, who won that battle?" Ron asked, her curiosity piqued at this point. "Or did the bombs drop before the battle even end?"

"According to history, the Chinese were forced to retreat. Around that time, it seemed like their campaign into Alberta was ending," Vinny explained. "I think its it's around then they dropped the first bombs on Canada, hitting the oil sands head on. They decided that if they couldn't have the oil, they'd make sure their enemies didn't either."

"Hence their modern name, the Burning Sands, now," Grant added in.

Vinny looked at him. "How did you know that?"

Grant shrugged and offered no answer. Though it too felt odd to Ron that Grant would know so much about Alberta. Could he have been there before? She wanted to question the Buck about his knowledge of the topic, but she considered her past attempts at getting Grant to talk about his past -particularly how unsuccessful said attempts were. Grant did not like to talk about himself...

'I'll ask him about it later, away from prying ears. Maybe I'll get him in a good mood,' She thought to herself as the caravan continued on. She shivered from the cold, feeling the weather-proofing in her vault suit already giving way to the icy wind. 'In the meantime, I better get myself another layer when we get to Woodshade."

They reached the bottom of the mountain and made their way to the road. They moved to the shores of the Capilano Lake -once a fresh water lake during the old years, now an irradiated, half-frozen expanse of water. Many holes dotted the ice -large holes, as though something had come up through the ice, and whatever that was seemed to have Grant on alert.

The buck kept his eyes to the dark waters, his rifle held at the ready as though he had expected something to leap out at them. When Ron asked him about it, he explained, "Mirelurks. They tend to live in lakes like this -just making sure there aren't any new nests around here or they'll be all over us." He gestured to Ron's shotgun. "Got those slugs I gave you?"

"Still in my pocket." Ron answered, fishing the shells out of her pocket and swinging her shotgun around so it was in front of her. From there, she emptied out the chamber of the shotgun, pocketing the unspent ammunition and began loading the slugs into the tube in their place, pumping the gun to chamber the first shell it before holding it firmly in her grasp.

Grant nodded in approval. "If you must use your pistol, wait for them to raise their head and expose their face -they do it just before they attack. If they're not that close, the slugs should punch through their shells. They aren't that tough if you can get through their armour -one shot to the upper body should put them down for good."

She nodded in return. "Thanks for the tip." The vixen returned, tightening her grip on her gun and focusing all around her, watching for anything that might signal a Mirelurk attack.

Halfway along the dam, Vinny moved a little closer to Ron, clearing his throat before speaking. "So, how long you been out of a vault?" He asked, in hopes to strike up a conversation with the vixen.

Veronica shrugged a bit. "Bout a week or so; I haven't been keeping track as of late." She replied. "Too distracted by the rush of trying to survive to live another day."

"Fair enough," he returned with a nod. "And how does it compare to vault life?"

A grin slowly formed on Veronica's face before she answered. "No fucking contest. I'd rather keep living out here in the irradiated boonies than go back to a vault. Way too boring being cooped up in a giant metal container. Out here, it's never dull, and I'm learning something new everyday."

He arched an eyebrow, intrigued by her response. "Got to admit, I think you're the first vaulter I've met who takes to life out here so well."

Ron just chuckled and glanced back toward Vinny. "I guess I have a natural craving for adventure and excitement." She replied plainly. "I don't like sitting still or repeating the same routine over and over. The way I see it, you only live once. May as well make every second count."

Vinny nodded. "I can respect that. I think what really scares most is that when they walk out of the vault, they leave behind the safety it offers -there's a lot of scary shit out here that couldn't get to them in there. Though, I'm thinking that's not a problem for you," he pointed from her waist up her side, indicating her weapons and body armour.

"Would you believe that the first day out of my vault was almost my last?" She asked. "Nearly froze to death near the Skyride terminal. Only reason I'm around today is because Bucko found me before I kicked it." She added, gesturing to Grant with the butt of her shotgun.

He cast a glance over at Grant, and then back to Veronica. "Yikes," he said. "Good thing he did, eh?" He looked at Grant again, before leaning over to Veronica. "So, what is his story anyway?"

Unfortunately, Veronica did not really have an answer to give him, as even she did not know much about her partner. He shared his knowledge with her willingly, but not his past. She merely gave Vinny a helpless shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine." She admitted. "Besides everything else he's taught me about the wilderness, the only things I know about him are that he's a doctor and that he's a helluva shot."

Vinny hummed a laugh. "Dad always told me, never say no to having a doctor around," he said.

"Your dad sounds like he's got some common sense at least."

"It's kept him around for a long time, so there's something to it."

Veronica found she rather liked Vinny. He was friendly and seemed worldly enough to keep a conversation interesting. It helped pass the time for her as they reached the trees across the Capilano dam and made their way over to a partially hidden trail that led into the woods.

It was not until they stepped into the town that Veronica finally noticed the buildings, so blended into the trees they were. But sure enough, her Pip Boy let out a beep, and a new location had appeared on her map. "Woodshade", it read, as they walked into the community of log houses that unlike the buildings in Grousetown, appeared to be more recent construction, though they were still rather decrepit in appearance.

There were sixteen structures, built in a circle around a town center that was set up as a market -she could see a food vender selling fresh meat cuts and a tailor selling unremarkable but warm-looking clothes next door. She chuckled at how out of place the stores seemed with their locations and wondered what else she might find.

"Okay. We're selling some metal to the general trader," Carl stated. "It should only take us a little while if you want to wait, or you can do some browsing yourself. Up to you."

"I wouldn't mind browsing for something a little warmer than an insulated Vault Suit." Ron commented, then snickered as she looked to Grant. "Maybe I should go full ranger myself and get a Duster." She joked.

Grant flashed her a wry smile. "Always works for me. But good luck finding one," he returned.

"Oh? You don't think I can?" Ron retorted with a wry smirk of her own, before she would look around and notice a clothing store that caught her eyes. "Just watch me." She added as she then took off toward the store.

The clothier -a male wolf with black fur and lines of gray across his face, nodded to her as she approached. "Welcome! How may I help you?" He asked, in the most generic sales pitch she had ever heard.

"Just browsing for something to keep the cold off my back a little better." She commented as she stood before him. "Got any recommendations?"

"Something to wear over your current attire?" He asked, gesturing to her vault suit.

"Yea, like...a coat or a duster of some sort." Ron answered matter-of-factly. "Ya got something along those lines?"

The wolf cupped his chin in his paw as he studied here outfit. "Looks like you have already added some things to keep the cold at bay for a time. Arm and leg warmers, an under suit, a balaclava... your armour is not insulated so that is doing nothing for you." He turned to study his own wares. "I don't have any dusters or trench coats, but I do have this," he said, picking a vest from the coat rack -a thick, light brown suede vest with a padded interior and several pockets.

Ron was a tad disappointed that the store owner didn't have exactly what she was looking for, but the vest did pique her interest, studying the padding and the suede material. "I'm listening."

"It's a size above your own but your armour will fill the gap, I think," he said, holding the vest out to her. "Try it on."

The vixen shrugged, feeling she had nothing to lose by doing so, and gently took the vest from the wolf and began putting it on over her armoured Vault Suit. Immediately upon wearing it she noticed a difference. For one, she felt much warmer and more insulated thanks to the added thickness the vest offered. Looking back outside, she hummed in thought for a moment and took a few steps back outside. Immediately, she noticed how little she felt the wind

Satisfied with the result, she walked back into the shop and nodded to the Wolf. "Well, it's not exactly what I was looking for, but I gotta say, this thing works." She commented. "What's the damage for this vest?"

"Fifty caps," the wolf replied.

Ron felt pleased that the price was within her range -and, low enough she saw no need to haggle, retrieving the Caps from her belt pouch and taking five at a time as she counted them out. "Should promote this kind of stuff, especially to travellers going on long trips." Ron commented as she handed him her caps. "This is going to save my neck."

He took the caps gingerly and counted them out, nodding in satisfaction when he found they were there. "All yours. Hope it serves you well," he said. "Thanks for shopping."

"Later." Ron called back, giving the wolf a small wave as she headed back to regroup with Grant and the others.

Thee buck had gone to wait by the road out of town while the caravanners went about their business. He saw Veronica as she approached, studying the new piece of attire she wore.

"Doesn't go with your vault suit. But its practical enough."

"Oh, bite me." She retorted with a playful punch to his arm. "Okay, so it's not a duster, but it keeps the wind off me at least, and it's LOADED with pockets. I can carry ammo for days with this thing."

Grant gave an approving nod. "It will do well. Keeping your core warm is the most important, and that suede will keep the wind out too." His gaze drifted over her, stepping away from the wall he leaned against. "And, here come our clients."

Veronica looked back, seeing the three caravanners and their pack beast approaching, the packs on the Brahmiin's back and sides noticeably shrunken down, indicating that some of the wares had been sold off. Vinny gave Ron a two-fingered salute as he passed, followed by his two companions.

"Shall we be on our way?" Carl asked.

"Let's." The vixen returned, her eagerness coming off in the for of a little hop-skip when they were on the move again.

She looked back at Grant, and noticed him scowling at her. Before she could ask, he spoke up. "A guard-for-hire must maintain a professional composition," he said lowly to her as he walked behind her, letting only her hear him. "There is nothing wrong with the thrill of discovery, but do not let it show openly to your employers."

She calmed herself upon hearing his advice, rubbing the back of her head a bit in embarrassment. "...I knew that." She returned softly, though kept her gaze away from him for a moment.

The awkwardness passed, she spoke up to the buck again. "Hey Grant? When we're done with this job...I'd like to know a little more about you. Seeing as I've pretty much told you everything about me, it's only fair you return the favour, right?"

He eyed her curiously. "I've been out here a long time, you know. There's probably more than I recount in one go," he frowned slightly, his gaze drifting away. "Some which... I'm not sure I can revisit. Not yet..."

Ron had a feeling in her stomach that she was treading into some dangerous territory when he mentioned that, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. "...Well, no one said you had to tell me in one night." She offered as a compromise. "We could just start with one event at a time and go from there."

"We'll see..." he returned but offered no more than that.

Ron frowned, not pleased with the answer, though she decided to let it go for now. No good could come of having them argue amongst one another, especially while they were on the job. She held her shotgun in her hands once more as the caravan went on its way again, leaving Woodshade and onward toward their next destination.

The snowfall resumed once again as the caravan made its way southward back to Highway One, to follow it westward to Horseshoe Bay. According to Carlos and the others, it was the most direct route to their destination, and would get them there the fastest. Once they had cut through a former residential area, they found the highway easily, taking a ramp to the top and following it west.

Both Grant and Veronica felt exposed atop the highway, though it seemed deserted enough. Miles of parked cars -some of which had been scavenged for parts and materials, stretched along the road as far as the eye could see, forcing the group to maneuver around them as they moved. Fortunately, none served to block their way and they were making good time with the wind at their backs.

Some time into their trek, as they approached a bend in the highway, they came to a stop as they heard what sounded like a distant explosion. Grant put up his hand for silence, ears raised to listen as he looked for the source of the sound. His gaze turned south-west. This time, they saw a brief flash, followed by another explosion that resulted in a miniature mushroom cloud -the telltale signs of a thermonuclear weapon's detonation, yet considerably smaller than the described explosions of the bombs that had destroyed the world. Still, the resemblance -even to Veronica who had not been alive in that time, was uncanny to what she had been shown in school.

Once the cloud had died down and there was relative silence in the air again, Ron dared to speak up. "...So am I right to assume that was some sort of mini nuke?" She asked inquisitively. "Hard to believe nuclear weapons still exist after the big one hit."

"Could've been a car explosion," offered Vinny. "They go up like that sometimes."

"Two in a row, though?" Grant asked incredulously, looking back at the male fox. "Very unlikely." He turned back towards the direction of the explosions again. "That's Lions Gate Bridge -there's always a battle going on over there, and if there are mini nukes, it's safe to assume it's Super Mutants, trying to venture into Raider territory."

"Super Mutants, all the way down here?" Ellis asked, nervously.

"Not unheard of," Grant replied. "They always come down south when their food supplies run low."

"So, we have a chance of running into them, then." Ron said in a bemoaning manner. "Joooooy... Any advice I should know about in case we encounter one?"

"Hide," Vinny remarked bluntly.

"Not even Marv knows where they came from. They're mutants like him, but they aren't Ghouls. However, they have the same weak points -they were once people, but now are something else. Picture a person, seven feet tall and built like a professional bodybuilder, but no fur and skin is a yellow-green. That's a Super Mutant -they're huge and strong, and violent."

Another explosion went up from the bridge, making Ron jump slightly from the timing, but Grant did not flinch, only glanced in the direction again. "Fucking hell!!" Ron cried out in surprise from the explosion.

"Fortunately for us, they have all the collective intelligence of a door handle," Grant answered in a glib tone.

"Yet they know how to make big bombs?" Ron asked.

"They have a stockpile of mini-nukes up on Cypress Mountain where they live, but most of them are too dumb to know how to use the launchers, so instead they arm it like a grenade and run at their target either to throw or just blunder into them until it goes off. The only battle tactic they understand is to rush and overwhelm through force. If they win, they then bring everyone they catch back to the mountain."

"And that's where it gets nasty," added Vinny with a shudder.

"I know I'm going to regret asking, but... why does that part specifically get nasty?" The vixen asked.

"Because we are their food source," Grant replied bluntly. "And they like their meat warm and juicy."

Veronica threw up her arms in disgust "I knew it! I regret it!" Ron exclaimed, before adding with a visible shudder, "Let's keep moving, and hope we don't run into those suicidal roid ragers."

"I'm with you there," agreed Vinny.

"We should get off the highway," Grant stated.

The caravanners looked at him as though he were insane. "What? Why?" Carl asked.

"This highway goes right past Cypress Bowl Road," Grant explained. "That's the road that takes the mutants back to their home -if the raiders drive them back, which they always do, this is where they'll be coming. A small band like us is too tempting a target for them."

He pointed down into the ruins below. "Mather's Ave is down there -we stay on it for a few kilometers, we can safely pass the entrance to Cypress Bowl by going through Altamont. Once we reach the end of Mather's, we turn north to a junction, where we can get back on the highway and resume from there."

"But that could add another hour -maybe even more to our journey -it'll be dark before we get to Horseshoe Bay!" Ellis protested. "You really want to wander those ruins in the dark?"

"It's a good thing then we have three people with night vision travelling with us," Grant pointed out, indicating Carl, Vinny and Veronica. "One of those three also has a Pip Boy." He looked at Ron, making sure she understood his meaning.

With that as her cue, she lifted her left arm to show off the Pip Boy to the group. "Anything tries to sneak attack us, we'll know before they even see us." She assured the caravanners. "We'll be fine so long as we all stay together."

The three considered the proposition, apprehensive about changing the course of their trek. But Vinny spoke up for them, turning to his partners. "They're right, you know. It may be longer, but if it keeps us from becoming a big green guy's snack, I'm willing to risk it," he said.

"Oh, damn it all," grumbled Ellis.

"Alright... let's go," agreed Carl.

Grant nodded. "Follow me," he said, leading them on. "We'll take the next off ramp -should just be another kilometer ahead."

"And stay alert. God knows what we might find this far out." Ron added, already taking her own advice and keeping her senses sharp for even the slightest disturbance.

As Grant had suggested, the group left the highway and made their way down to Mather's Avenue, the next most direct road that was on their way. From down in the ruined buildings, drawing ever-closer to the waterfront, they could no longer see the highway -and that meant any mutants wandering along it would not see them either, or so they hoped. The explosions had stopped at Lions Gate Bridge, indicating that the battle was over -or at the very least, the mutants had used up their stock of mini-nukes.

Veronica rather preferred taking roads like this -it logged more locations into her Pip Boy than the highway, leaving her with places she might explore in the future.

Grant led them along the road until they had come to a bend with a weathered sign, reading "-ridge Ave", though whether that meant 'Ridge' or 'Bridge' could not be determined. He checked the map on Veronica's Pip Boy briefly before nodding and leading the group to the right, rounding back closer to the highway, and the next location for her Pip Boy -a Chevron Gas Station, was added.

It was also here that they ran into their first complication. The gas station was crawling with bony figures shuffling about. Ghouls, nearly naked and with nary anything between their skin and their bones, bearing dead lifeless expressions as they stalked and stumbled about, some of them falling comically onto their faces, hissing and snarling at each other all the while.

"Feral Ghouls," Grant explained, staying low behind a car wreck with Ron at his side, and the caravaners a few safe yards back. "The ramp we need to get to is just off to the left from here."

She nodded softly in return. "A pistol should be enough for these fucks, but there's quite a few of them out there. One shot will bring 'em all running."

"Too open to sneak up on them, either," Grant said, humming. "And I count at least sixteen between us and that Chevron there," he cocked his head at the building. "Could be even more inside." He began to look around for a solution. "Need to distract them with something -move them further away."

He looked past the Chevron towards some houses, humming again as he seemed to have an idea. Reaching into his pocket, he produced an old sports whistle -like the kind a gym teacher or a lifeguard might have carried according to Ron's history lessons. He then turned to her and described his plan. "I'm going to draw them over to those houses. Soon as they move, start getting the caravan to the ramp. I'll sneak back around them and catch up with you there."

"Alright... be careful, okay?" Ron asked, allowing herself a small smirk. "Would be a little embarrassing if I had to pull your ass out of the fire for a change." She added with a giggle.

He huffed a laugh. "Don't count on it, vault dweller," he returned before he started off, stepping around Veronica and slowly moving out from behind the car, staying low as he moved into the trees off to the right.

Veronica, waiting until he was out of sight, went back to the caravanners. Vinny saw her returning and looked around when he saw she was alone. "Where's the other guy?" He asked, concerned.

"He's going to clear a path for us." Ron replied. "The second those Ghouls start moving, we hightail it toward the ramp leading back to the highway." She informed the three caravaners.

They nodded in understanding, and waited, with no small amount of anticipation for the buck's signal.

Moments passed, and finally they heard the sharp, shrill sound of a whistle pierce the air. The ghouls stirred at the sound, looking about in search of its source. It sounded again, and they began to move, turning in the direction of the whistle as it continued to screech.

"Now's our chance." Ron hissed to the others. "Get that cow moving. Go!" She stated urgently.

"Come on, you," Ellis urged the two-headed pack beast, which groaned in protest as the eagle ushered it along, pulling hard on its leash to guide it on the correct path.

Carl and Vinny, as precaution, drew their respective pistols as they followed the creature, keeping their eyes in the direction the ghouls were moving. The whistle sound had not yet ceased but seemed to have moved further away. Grant was taking no chances making sure the caravan would pass safely.

"Just a little more..." Ron muttered as she watched the departing Ghouls, occasionally checking back to see how far they had moved before watching them again. When she was sure they were mostly out of sight, she turned about and ran after the caravanners as fast as she could, catching up to them quickly and informing them of their situation.

"Looks like we're clear." She said as she caught her breath. "They took the bait, and now we're safely away."

The whistling had stopped by then. The caravan was halfway up the ramp while they waited for Grant to make his appearance. Veronica looked at her Pip Boy, trying to see if the indicator picked up the buck, but she could not even see the ghouls on it -they had moved out of range. But soon, she saw a green blip appear, to her relief. Grant was on his way back...

But her relief was promptly dashed by a red blip only seconds later, and then a gunshot -the unmistakable cracking sound of Grant's .308 bolt-action rifle being fired. The red blip disappeared, and from the trees -the same copse where the buck had entered, Grant emerged, running towards them as more red blips began to appear on her Pip Boy.

"There was another group!" Grant called as he ran within earshot, with eight ghouls coming out of the trees behind him.

Their earlier, shambling walk was not reminiscent in this group of ghouls in the way as they tore after Grant, snarling, and running with incredible speed. One fell during the run, only to tumble, limbs flying out to catch itself and then it was back up and resuming the run as though nothing had happened. It was not as vast a group as the one Grant had lured away, numbering only eight. Maybe this group they could fight off, if they could eliminate enough of them before the fight got too close. But how...?

As if in answer to her thoughts, Veronica heard Vinny behind her and turned to see the male fox handing her what appeared to be a bottle of vodka, with a dry, white cloth stuck in the top. In his other paw, he held out a box of matches. "Try these!"

She caught on to what he was trying to do, nodding and taking the bottle and the matches. Tucking the bottle under her arm, she quickly lit one of the matches, holding it up to the cloth and igniting it. Dropping the matches and taking the molotov in hand, Ron then took a few steps forward and shouted out as she threw the bottle. "Fire in the hole!!"

The bottle landed just in front of the pack of ghouls, shattering and spilling its contents everywhere before the flaming cloth ignited the alcohol, creating a wall of fire that began to burn any ghoul that was unfortunate enough to get caught within the flames. They shrieked in agony, some of them thrashing about as if to attack the flames that slowly consumed them. Two, in anticipation of prey -or a lack of reaction to pain, continued to charge, their ragged clothes ablaze.

One got close enough to reach for Grant -the buck turned and bludgeoned the feral ghoul in the face with the stock of his gun, sending it toppling onto its back where the flames quickly ate away at it. The other one made a beeline straight for Veronica, who quickly drew her 10mm and fired two shots at the ghoul, One hitting it in the shoulder, the second one landing right in its skull, sending it tumbling to the ground in a heap before laying still before her.

Reaching her side, Grant turned and looked behind him, towards the burning ghouls, in case any others were chasing him. But the rest were quickly succumbing to the fire, falling over in a burning heap as they were consumed. Seeing no other reason to wait around, they turned and ascended the ramp to rejoin the caravan.

"Nice throw," Grant complimented Veronica.

"Thanks." Ron replied with a nod. "How you holding up, Bucko? Any of them get you?"

"One got a swipe at me," he admitted, looking at his arm where a new cut on his duster could be seen. "But, otherwise, no -I'm fine. I didn't see them until they popped

"Let's hope no more try to follow us..." She replied with a bit of a grim tone. "I imagine our gunshots might have alerted something to our presence..."

"Just keep an eye on your Pip Boy for now. The sound will have he assured her. "At most they'll come to investigate the shots, then move on when they find nothing."

"Right." The vixen returned with a nod, quickly checking her Pip Boy to see if there were indeed any red blips following them. To her relief, she only saw the four green blips that indicated her allies. They were safe for the time being, but nevertheless, she remained vigilant.

Hours passed into the journey. Night was already beginning to fall by the time they could make out the lights of another settlement in the distance, running parallel to the highway on the left. But they were still a fair distance from Horseshoe Bay, according to Carl, though he directed them towards the community.

On approach, the location registered on Veronica's Pip Boy. 'Caulfield Village', it showed, and appeared to have once been a large strip mall in its hay day, with a big grocery store, pharmacy, liquor store, pet food supplier and an insurance broker filling the divided structure. The stores had been repurposed by new vendors, and now the parking lot was filled with metal shanties and the remains of cars stripped for their steel.

Though the sun had fallen, the stores were still open, and the caravanners made for the old insurance broker's office -now converted into a general supplier, to make their trades, leaving Grant and Veronica waiting once again. This time, they waited outside the store, as the place was much bigger than Woodshade and easier to lose their clients in its vastness.

The work on the settlement had made the place into a sparse but, oddly secure fortress. A wooden wall had been built between the mall and the road running parallel to it, with a single gate being the only access -a gate they had come through once the sentries atop had recognized the traders and opened it for them, evidently frequent visitors to the community.

There were six guard towers along the wall, built just high enough to peek over, and lights shone out into the ruins to illuminate anything that might be approaching. They carried scoped rifles -probably night vision, but wore no body armour, and their body language seemed to suggest that these were mostly volunteers who did not have formal training in firearms -likely hunters and scavengers looking for a more static position, so Grant suggested. Most of the houses were quiet, but the liquor store-turned tavern was still lively, with customers going in and stumbling out.

Despite its shabby appearance, it seemed prosperous enough. Veronica noted though that the grocery store was the only unused structure -she had noticed it was empty when they had passed it upon entering town. Though certainly everything valuable was likely scavenged from the building long ago, it seemed odd that they wouldn't make use of the space. Perhaps they had just found nothing to do with it yet.

Deciding to break the silence between them while they waited for the caravanners to finish their trades, Ron lifted her head to the sky and noticed how dark it was already. "...As much as I want to get to Horseshoe Bay as soon as possible, think we ought to reconsider travelling at night and maybe rest up here?" She suggested to Grant.

"Might have to. Never wise to venture in the shadow of the mountains in the dark," agreed Grant. "Though I don't know what places here offer accommodations -I've only visited this town once before, and that was just passing through."

"Let's wait for Vinny and the others to get back and run the idea past them. Maybe they know a thing or two about this place." Ron suggested.

Grant nodded in agreement, turning his gaze towards the sky, as though hoping to see something noteworthy above. But the sky was naught but an infinite void of black, with any stars that might be looking down blocked behind the unending cloud barrier. Still, it did not stop him from searching, as though he hoped to find some change in the sky one night. Ron found this behaviour rather peculiar, making her look up to the sky as well, but not quite understanding what he was looking for. With a smirk, she glanced over to the buck and nudged his shoulder.

"Trying to find some kind of sign or something?" She asked in a smug tone.

"Something like that," he replied, tonelessly.

"Well, what exactly are you looking for?" She asked. "A shooting star? The moon?"

He huffed a light laugh. "I'd settle for just a glimpse at any of those things, if I were to be perfectly honest," he replied. "I used to read this book when I was a kid. Only thing I had for most of my childhood yet," his face scrunched with displeasure. "For the life of me I could never pronounce the title -some German word, I think. But anyway, the story was about a boy who lived with his parents, in some wasteland -sound familiar?" He flashed a smirk Ron's way.

"Anyway, he had nothing to do most nights, so he'd spend it lying on his balcony, staring up at the sky. Most of the time, he saw nothing -once or twice he might spot a shooting star and talked about how much he loved the sight of a full moon and how it lit up the night. But the story goes on to detail a night that the sky seemed to light up with fire as a meteor arched over his home, striking down in the distance, and he watched it until its glow faded. The next day, he and his father went to see what the object was, and though fascinated by it, it was really nothing more than a rock from space. It had fused to the stones it had crashed into, so they could not take it back. "

"But little did the boy know what he would find waiting for him when he returned to his usual nightly routine. That meteor he had seen the night before was just the start of something much greater. As he lay upon his balcony staring up, the sky burned bright with the light of a thousand passing meteors. He describes it as having been the most exciting moment of his life, to see in such clear splendor, something that most people -even back then, never got to see throughout their entire lives."

He looked up at the sky again. "I think the morale of the story, is that sometimes great things start from something small. Often times, I hope one day to spot an opening in those clouds up there, and see even one star peeking through it. That day, I hope, marks the time when the sky might finally clear, and I'll get to see the sky as that little boy did."

Veronica was stunned. She had not expected to hear such a story from the buck, normally so withdrawn -even Marv who had known Grant for months now only knew a few things about Grant, and out of respect for his privacy, the Ghoul let only minor things slip -stuff that Grant didn't consider to be close to his heart. This was the first time he had been so open, and it left Veronica at a loss for words for a few moments as she struggled to come up with the right thing to say to him.

Eventually she ended up looking back to the sky herself, letting out a long sigh before she finally broke the long silence between them once more. "...Ya know... I've never really seen the sky myself." She commented. "I was born in Vault 228, so I never really knew what the sky looked like even before the bombs went off. The only thing I had to look up to at night was a half-dimmed set of lights and a ceiling full of pipes and shit." Her gaze slightly shifted to Grant, and she dared to step a bit closer to him. "Now that I've seen the outside world for what it really is, I think I want to see that too -the day when the clouds do finally disappear, and the sky finally reveals itself to us."

He looked at her, and she saw a genuine smile on his face as she finished speaking. "If that day should come in our lifetime, I look forward to seeing it with you then," he said, and looked up as the caravanners stepped out of the store.

"We could probably make it to Horseshoe bay in the next hour or two if we move quick," Carl was telling his friends.

"You sure you want to do that? Even if some of us have not vision, there'll be plenty of things hiding in the dark out there," Vinny cautioned.

"Well what do you suggest then?" Ellis asked.

"This town has a hostel, right? Why don't we just stay there for the night?"

"I refuse to sleep in a room shared by a dozen people," Carl returned firmly. "I will sleep in my own bed or preferably at least a tavern room where I can have some privacy."

"Well the 'tavern' here in Caulfield doesn't have rooms," Vinny reminded.

Ron couldn't help but giggle at their argument. "Seems like they can't decide whether to stay here or move on." She commented playfully to Grant. "Oh, whatever shall we do?"

Even Grant could only shrug, unable to give an answer himself.

"Look, Miss Veronica has that sensor in her Pip Boy, right? Anything comes at us in the dark, we'll know, and then you, I and her can all see in the dark," Carl argued.

"What about Ellis and Mr. Grant?" Vinny reminded.

"I have a night vision scope," Grant piped up. "I'd just have to attach it to my rifle."

"Then that just leaves me the one blind as a bat," Ellis complained, rolling his eyes.

"Well then you better stay close to one of us nocturnal creatures." Ron pointed out. "It's either that, or we all share a really small room with several other occupants. I'm not picky either way, but you better make a decision fast before we make one for you."

"My vote is, we carry on," stated Carl. "We can make Horseshoe Bay in a couple of hours, then store the rest of our goods at my place and take them for sale in the morning. But I will sleep in my own room or I will walk."

"I'd like to get home too, but I also like keeping my head attached," Vinny replied, turning to Veronica and Grant. "Well, you're our protection -what do you think?"

The vixen looked over toward Grant's direction with a bit of a shrug. "I'm fine with either. What about you, Bucko?" She asked. "Want to risk it?"

Grant considered for a moment, mouth twitching as he hummed once or twice in thought. "Much as I am leery about anything that might come down off the mountains at us, there's really no other way to Horseshoe Bay than to keep following Highway One," he said, looking northward in the direction of said road. "It's true we could make it in two hours. But at no small risk." He looked at Carl. "Are you that adamant about getting there tonight?"

"Unless you also want to be sleeping next to me and surrounded by numerous snoring men in the town hostel, yes. I am adamant," Carl replied.

Grant looked at Ellis, who only shrugged. None of them doubted they could take care of themselves, but of course, only Veronica and Grant had been there the night they had seen the Deathclaw, a creature not seen in the North Vancouver ruins for some time now, and so far not seen again by anyone else. But that chance encounter had left the buck more than a little wary of walking around in the dark for longer than necessary.

Finally, he let out a sigh. "Alright. Let's go," he said. "But that brahmiin of yours better be able to go a little faster -and, above all else, we have to stay quiet. There's no side road we can take this time -none that I'd dare risk."

Vinny shrugged as well and looked at Veronica. "Hope you don't mind a little night walk," he said.

At that, she grinned back at Vinny. "What, don't think I can handle it?" She asked in a cocky tone.

"Never crossed my mind," he replied with a chuckle as he went over to their pack beast, grasping the reins and leading the mutated bovine onward.

They left Caulfield and returned to the highway once more, staying on the opposite end as far from the mountainside as possible, where many trees and alcoves could be hiding potential threats. Grant always walked with his rifle held at the ready , peering through his night vision scope, with Veronica at his back and her Pip Boy held at eye level, resting her pistol atop the upraised arm where she could use it immediately upon spotting a threat.

Ellis, walking in front of the caravanners with only the light of the vixen's Pip Boy to even show him where she was, tripped several times on various debris, cursing for each stubbed talon. Carl and Vinny walked on the left of the beast, as though in some effort to use it for cover.

They followed a long, stretching bend that curved out from the mountainside, passing by a gravel pit above the road, and by the start of what had once been a hiker's trail but was now buried under the snow, before they came to a fork in the road. The highway split off in two directions -one marked as Highway 99, rising over the main road and along the mountainside, the other descending downward. The left was their road, leading down to Horseshoe Bay, and around a final bend, they could see the lights of the large community ahead, seeming so close now.

Horseshoe Bay, even seen from afar, was easily much larger than Caulfield Village. The sheer size would likely have taken in the strip mall community, Woodshade and Grousetown all within its borders. Their way ahead seemed clear.

But that's always when the trouble began. As they ventured along the road, they ventured near an old tollbooth station, and it was then Grant shouted out a warning before a gunshot split the air. Not his shot, but someone else's. A bullet ricocheted off the pavement, only inches from Veronica's foot. Grant fired back, aiming in the direction of the tollbooth station, where the muzzle flash of a gun could be seen from within the derelict building.

"Shit! Find cover!" Ron called out to the others before she did so herself, rolling behind a car and pressing her back to it. She then pulled up her Pip Boy to check and see just how many enemies there were within the tollbooth.

She could see four red marks on her compass, coming from the direction of the building, but she could only see the muzzle flash of one gun. While it was possible the others were not armed -at least with firearms, she knew better than to risk her neck on such an assumption.

Grant fired another shot, and the shooter in the window cried out in pain and stopped firing. Veronica used the ceasefire to move closer, sticking to the car wrecks for cover. She didn't see what Grant was doing, but the buck knew his way around a firefight.

Once she was close enough to the building, she dared to allow herself a peek into one of the windows to see who exactly they were dealing with. 'Thank fuck for night vision...' She thought to herself as she squinted her eyes a bit in a vain attempt to get a better picture on who was attacking them.

The figures were garbed in mismatched gear -one of the usual signs of raiders, but these ones had dug in quite well to this old terminal building beyond the toll booth. There was only one window on her side, where the shooter had been before Grant had him -although the marker had not disappeared from her compass, indicating that the shooter was still alive, though probably wounded. The next one was behind the building and sneaking out to move among the cars as she was. She saw the telltale glint of night vision eyes, reflecting the next muzzle flash of Grant's gun as he fired at someone who had appeared at the window.

She was sure the newcomer hadn't seen her yet, but he certainly _would_if she was not careful. She could see a large bladed weapon in his hand, sharpened and with a serrated edge.

'Oh no you don't, you shit stain...' Ron thought to herself, watching the Raider make his way closer to where Grant and the others were. She unholstered her pistol and took aim when he was in a clearing, closing one eye and focusing her line of sight down the ironsight of her gun. When she was sure she had a clear shot, she quickly pulled the trigger, and the raider reeled with a feline yeowl of pain as blood sprayed from his sword arm.

He got up a moment later and saw Veronica. Before she could fire her next shot, he sprang over the nearest car, falling behind it in cover.

"Dammit," Ron growled, then looked over to Grant's direction. "To your 11! Feline by the car!" She called to the buck.

Grant swung in the direction Veronica had indicated, firing again. This time Veronica heard a body falling against the car, and a marker vanished from her compass. She flashed him a thumbs up, letting him know his aim had been true, then she turned her attention back to the building once more, trying to scope out where the other three were within the building so she could point them out to Grant.

The only one she could still see was the one that had been shooting at them before, and though Grant had taken another shot at him, he was still alive -the buck had either missed or the wall between them had held. She could hear someone growling in pain, though. The other two marks were further back and seemed to be behind the structure as the other one had been, looking for a way to sneak out to flank the obviously skilled shooter. Ron had been counting Grant's shots -he had only one left in his rifle.

She knew the second Grant had to stop to reload, she'd have to cover him. She quickly checked her own magazine, seeing she still had seven rounds left, before sliding the magazine back into the gun and checking her Pip Boy to see where each of the flanking Raiders were. The second she heard Grant take another shot, she acted, quickly rolling to the nearest car and hiding behind that one next, peeking through the open window, then checking her Pip Boy once again to confirm one of the targets was close before she would quickly expose herself and fire a couple of shots into the darkness, then ducked back down for cover.

She didn't hear any of her shots hit, but she heard the scuffle of feet as the figure went behind cover when they realized the shots were for him. Off to her side, she heard more gunshots, but these ones came from behind her -she heard them ricochet off a nearby car, followed by another scuffle past the one she had forced to retreat. She had almost forgotten about Vinny and Carl -they could see as well as she could and had decided to join the fight as well.

Suddenly realizing they were outnumbered, Veronica heard one of the raiders cursing. "You bastard -you said they had no guards! Fuck this, I'm outta here!"

With that, the nearest hostile to Veronica abandoned his hiding spot and made a mad dash for the trees. A few bullets followed his trek, but he was quick and none found their mark. After jumping the concrete barrier at the side, he fled into the darkness.

"Well that's two down at least..." Ron muttered softly, though the fleeing Raider's words stuck in her head.

Clearly these thugs were expecting them to take this path to Horseshoe Bay and had prepared an ambush accordingly. She at first wanted to shrug it off as a coincidence, seeing as this was the only way to Horseshoe Bay, especially at night. Though there was a nagging doubt in the back of her mind. She felt something was off about all this.

The last raider knew now he was outnumbered, and he too was fleeing the scene, leaving only the wounded one inside the building as he made for the trees. Unlike his comrade, however, he did not make it, suffering a round to the leg and collapsing onto his face atop a car, letting out a wail of agony as his nose was shattered.

Ron checked her Pip Boy once more, confirming only the two remained. She grinned and stood up, approaching the wounded raider laying next to the car, nose gushing blood. She angled her pistol higher, aiming right his head and pulling the hammer back.

"Got anything to say before I blow your brains all over the hood of this car?" She would ask.

"Hey, look lady, we were just hired for a job!" The bloody-nosed feline returned, holding up his hands. "We were promised an easy hit, lots of scrap metal and ammo! Told us there'd be no guards!"

"...So, you were sent by someone." She muttered, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Who the fuck sent you to ambush us?" The vixen demanded angrily, pressing the barrel of her gun against the Raider's temple.

"That guy, in there!" He pointed to the terminal, where the wounded shooter still lay. "He hired us!"

Ron's gaze shifted to the terminal, her face scowling angrily before she looked back at the Raider. "...Congrats. You just earned yourself one more day to live." She said as she flipped out her baton and struck the Raider clean across his face, making his head hit the car and knocking him out instantly.

Grant walked over, glancing at the unconscious cat and then at Ron. "Hired goons, eh?" He asked, having heard that much, looking at the terminal. "Convenient that he's on scene too."

"Makes me all the more eager to meet this mother fucker and tear his ass a new one..." Ron growled as she looked up toward the terminal. "Let's go see what the deal is."

"Right with you," Grant returned, shouldering his rifle and drawing his knife.

At the window, they found the weapon of the shooter lying in the snow below the sill. A break-action, single-barrel shotgun, and inside, they found a brown wolf, clutching a wound in his side where Grant had shot him, and clutching a bleeding hand where the buck had grazed him when he tried to go back for his gun again. The wolf looked familiar, and their fears were confirmed when Vinny came up to stand next to them.

"Johnny?" He demanded.

"The guard who escorted you to Grousetown," Grant scoffed. "Now it makes sense, how they knew we were coming."

The wolf -Johnny, as they now knew- looked up at them, gritting his teeth to the pain in his side. "Never figured these pansy-ass cheapskates would hire two more after firin' me," he growled. "Especially not a crack shot like you." He spat towards Grant. "Should've been an easy score."

Ron scoffed at the wolf. "Easy? Buddy, I've only been living out in the boonies for about a week and even I know that nothing's ever easy." She shot back, crossing her arms in front on her. "It's really sad that you're trying to get revenge over something that was your own damn fault in the first place. The least you could of done is own up to your failings like a real man." The vixen further stated with a hint of venom in her tone.

"Revenge?" He asked. "Lady, this ain't about payback. These fuckers _owed_me. I saw them all the way here from Salmon Arm and they pay me a measly three-hundred caps. So I figure, they ain't gonna pay me right, I'll just take their stuff and barter it for myself."

Ron looked back to Vinny with an incredulous expression. "You offered this guy 300 caps?!" She exclaimed in surprise. "A fuckwit like him barely deserves even one cap."

"We offered him three hundred caps a day," Vinny corrected. "It's a four-day journey from Vancouver to Salmon Arm, so it seemed a fair price. But he blew all of it at every stop on the road. It's not our fault he can't manage his money."

The vixen looked back to Johnny with mild disdain. "Dude, you could have been rolling in caps...three hundred a day seems like a fucking gold mine." She commented. "Though instead of saving your cash, you blow it all on your addiction, and then you have the audacity to claim they weren't paying you right?"

She then pulled out her pistol again and pulled the hammer back, taking aim at the injured wolf. "I ought to put a fucking bullet into your brain...If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a gutless, greedy shit stain like you."

He put up his hand defensively. "Hey, whoa, whoa! You don't have to kill me!" He protested.

"Give me a reason not to." She growled.

"I uh... uh... well..." He stumbled over his words, but could offer no argument. Veronica was so disgusted by this man she knew the wasteland would be better off without him.

But with a scoff, Grant changed her mind. "Because you're not worth it," he said. "Just another wasteland junkie -he'll find himself dead in a hole soon enough. No point wasting a bullet."

Ron glanced back to Grant for a moment, then sneered back at Johnny once again. Slowly she lowered her pistol and holstered it, giving the wolf the impression that she was going to spare him. But he was not so fortunate - she pulled out her baton and whacked him clean across his face, even knocking a tooth out from how hard she hit him with her weapon.

"...Grant's right." She said coldly as the wolf whined in pain. "You're too pathetic to waste a bullet on."

With that, Grant stepped forward and delivered a kick to the wolf's head, knocking him into darkness from the force of his hoof connecting. Grant sheathed his knife and turned to Vinny. "Three hundred caps a day?" He asked, still surprised. "For just one guard?"

"He came recommended," Vinny replied, sighing. "The guys who pointed us to him were probably his friends. Waste of good caps." He shook his head, and then waved his hand at the wolf. "You're welcome to anything he has on him now - assuming he has anything left of the money we paid him."

Ron rolled her eyes a bit. "Well, better in responsible hands than in his." She commented as she knelt and began searching through his clothes for anything of value.

"I suppose now you want to renegotiate our deal," Vinny said.

"No," Grant returned. "We will settle on the agreed amount. Unlike with Johnny here, you were under no false pretenses with us, and the price is still fair."

Vinny let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Grant. I promise, you won't regret it."

Ron piped up at that moment. "You want his gun, Bucko? Might be handy if you need the extra firepower."

"Better you take his ammo," Grant suggested. "That gun of his uses twelve-gauge ammunition -same as yours. I'll find something else eventually."

"...Suit yourself." She returned, continuing her search and eventually pulled out a few caps and whatever shotgun ammunition he was carrying. She pocketed the items in her vest, then stood tall and sighed. "Surprised he even _had_anything on him."

"Junkie he might be, but still a merc," Vinny replied, then knelt to Johnny's body and picked up a small pouch lying by the wolf's unconscious body, shaking it and receiving the sound of jangling metal within. "Huh. So, he _did_still have some left, or maybe pilfered it from these poor souls he convinced to work with him."

He stared at the pouch for a moment, his gaze drifting to Veronica for a moment. A half smile formed on his face as he tossed the pouch to her, catching it between her paws. "Caps better spent," he said, rising back to his feet and giving her a clap on the shoulder. "Don't tell the guys -they'll kill me," he whispered through the corner of his muzzle as he walked past.

Ron raised an eyebrow at him as he walked past her, slowly starting to smirk a bit. "...I like that guy." She muttered to herself, looking at the pouch of caps for a moment before she pocketed that too. "Nice to see we're not the only decent people living out here."

"Even the wasteland can't make everyone a monster, or all businessmen dishonest," Grant replied with an approving nod as he walked out with her, rejoining the caravanners and continuing their trek to Horseshoe Bay.

With the tollbooth fight behind them, the caravan finally reached the gates of Horseshoe Bay -a cordoned section of the highway, using a half-destroyed bus as a visitor's center where they had to be registered and given passes to enter the city, except for the caravanners who had citizen ID's. It seemed silly at first to have such a strict security for the town but given what they had encountered only a half hour before, Grant and Veronica couldn't really argue their reasoning.

A tall metal wall, consisting of stacked cars or long metal plates turned upright to create a barrier protected Horseshoe bay to the south and stretched across to the waters to the west before angling inland to continue the enclosure, blocking all approach and all access save for the way they had come in, but beyond the wall was the most bustling community Veronica had yet to see in the wasteland. Most of the ruined houses behind the wall -and even some outside of it -had been cleared, and their materials repurposed where needed to build new houses or act as supports for the wall. Much of the town was still a collection of shanty homes but in the wasteland one could hardly expect more.

The businesses the marina however were where things became truly interesting, for even well into the night, it was alive, well-lit and had an air of happiness to it. People partied by the waterfront around large campfires and enjoyed drinks from the many bars around them. Boats once dotting the marina had either sank, been turned into beachfront homes or salvaged for parts, leaving ample room for people to enjoy themselves.

The town felt so... alive, despite it having the same decrepit appearance of all wasteland communities. It was safe, pleasant, and made Veronica understand how Vinny and his friends could be so easy going compared to ones like Grant, having grown up in such a place -perhaps the one place where one might be able to enjoy the closest thing to carefree life, if such a thing could exist in the winter wastes.

Veronica eventually broke the silence that fell upon the group, stating. "...Okay, whatever these people are on that makes 'em so happy, I want some." She proclaimed. "How the hell are they all so joyous in such a dreary environment?"

Vinny chuckled. "Horseshoe Bay is the best place in the Vancouver wastes, ma'am," he said. "Our location alone gives us everything we need -safety, ample food sources from the ocean, trade aplenty. If you can't find it here, you aren't looking hard enough."

Ron looked back to Grant. "...Can we move here?" She blurted out quickly.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Why ask me?" He inquired. "You can live wherever you want, Ron."

"Yea, I guess," she returned, shrugging a bit. "I don't know, maybe I'm jumping the gun a bit. I just wasn't expecting to find such a place that was so joyous and carefree."

He nodded in understanding. "I admit, it's got an appeal -and certainly isn't like any other settlement you'll find out here. People being able to feel safe enough to feel happy, and not wondering if the next day will be their last," he said. "But, I prefer the less populated areas myself, and Grousetown is a good place, so that's where I call home for now."

Vinny piped up then. "So, think you two will spend the night here?" He asked.

"Not much choice. It'd be dawn by the time we got back to Grousetown," Grant replied. "Besides, it's been a long day -we could use some rest." He looked at Vinny. "Know anywhere we could put up for the night?"

"Sure. The motel's just back that way," he pointed up the road they came. "Just cross the intersection where we turned to get up here, and you'll see it on your left. Or..." he gave Ron a smile. "I could... make room for two at my place, if you might be interested, Veronica."

"...You are offering me a-?" Ron trailed off, hearing the hidden meaning behind his words. She blushed, momentarily taken aback when the look in his eyes confirmed her suspicion. "I mean... I don't think Vinny, no. I'm... good." She turned away shyly, blushing a little.

Vinny let up a helpless shrug. "The offer's there if you want it. In this world, a man -or woman- never knows when the last time they had some fun might be just that -the last time. Got to make do with the time you got," he turned away, and gave them a wave. "But I won't press. I'll be going for a drink at the pub. Good meeting you two."

He turned and headed up the street towards the bar.

Veronica found herself repeating his offer in her mind as she watched him leave, and considered his words. She thought back to the many nights where the Overseer's son had tried to woo her into bed with him, trying to make it seem like she owed it to him just because of who his father was. Vinny had made no such move -he'd made an offer, and when turned away he moved on. But now she wondered, did she want to refuse his offer?

She looked to Grant helplessly, hoping he could offer her advice. He saw the uncertainty on her face, and only smirked.

"It's your choice," he said. "Just remember, here in the wasteland, nobody judges -we all do something that might be questionable sometimes. But like Vinny said, you need to enjoy life where you can, any way you can." He reached into his coat pocket as he started to turn away, flipping it over his shoulder to her where she caught it in her paws -a plastic-wrapped item that she could easily guess what it was.

"Best advice, just make sure you're prepared," he added as he walked up the street towards the motel.

The vixen blushed as she looked down at the wrapped item in her paws, then looked back to Grant as he walked off, then to the direction Vinny went. Her mind raced a little as she tried to come to a decision as to what she should do, before she closed her eyes and clenched the item in her paw tightly, imagining giving herself to a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger perhaps -Vinny had shown he was a fair and honest man, and as she had thought before, he was not insistent. He left the decision to Veronica -a decision that her last 'admirer' had made it sound like was not hers to make.

"...Fuck it." She muttered, quickly turning toward where Vinny wandered off to and walked at a brisk pace. "You only live once, girl."

She found the bar and located Vinny at the counter, enjoying a shot of vodka. Seeing her approach, he invited her to join him, and the two shared shots and stories as the night allowed, with Vinny buying all the rounds until the fatigue of their travel and the buzz of the liquor finally caught up with them both. Soon, they left the bar, hanging on each other as Vinny led her to his house up the street.

His home, once the cellar of a house that had stood above it, was surprisingly cozy for a hole in the ground. It was warm and made warmer as he lit a fire in a makeshift fireplace in the wall, created from a hollow in the wall and fed directly into what used to be a ventilation duct, filling the room with light and a steadily growing heat.

Veronica brought out the item Grant had given her -a condom, for protection. She knew she still had a chance to turn away from this -Vinny would not force her into anything and would likely still give her a place to sleep if she had second thoughts. But, once again she repeated, "fuck it," and approached Vinny from behind, pressing into him, and making sure her body language told him all he needed to know. The male fox was happy to oblige, when he knew she was ready to take him up on his offer.

Within a moment, she was sitting on Vinny's bed in the corner, letting the male fox slowly undress her, pushing some of his brown hair from his face as he met her eyes with his -a rather nice shade of blue. How had she not noticed them before now? Then again, she hadn't expected to be sharing a bed with him throughout the journey, and so hadn't really given it much thought. But there was something here -maybe not love, but enough of an attraction that they could both at least have fun. Fun was all she was here for.

When her vault suit was stripped off, he removed his own clothes -a travel-worn body, packed with the tight leg muscles of one who spent his life on his feet, and a lithe upper body -not muscled, but not scrawny. 'He's certainly seen his fair share of combat...and he's pretty well built for a small guy...' she thought to herself, allowing herself to lift her paws and touch his scarred body, drawn to every curve of his muscles.

She knew she should have been nervous, knowing she was about to surrender her virginity to a man she had only known for the day. Such a thing should have come with trepidation. But Veronica did not know the meaning of the word, and so the vixen gave Vinny the condom Grant had left her and put her arms around him as he pressed in, engaging in some gentle foreplay -kissing and biting her playfully, a feeling of overwhelming desire and need for fulfillment she had never known in her life rising from within her and chasing all feelings of doubt from her mind.

She was ready.

A moment of pain shot through her as Vinny entered her for the first time. But the pain soon faded away, and she surrendered to her inner desires and to the male as he carried her to cloud nine. Pleasure overwhelmed pain, bliss chased away the woes of her exile.

With the earth-shattering finish, she knew only ecstasy...

In a place such as the wasteland, you are free to do as you decide without judgement. But it must always be remembered that freedom is to be used responsibly, even in a lawless world, for without responsibility one takes their freedom for granted...