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General Goose
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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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Well, it was set. They would move onwards. To somewhere. Kizi really didn't know what to say. She didn't want to exactly impose her preferences - as petty as they were, being merely desires for relative shelter and some chance of accessing indoor plumbing - on the others. They would likely have more strategic considerations in mind. Smarter choices. Cleverer options. She didn't want to undermine them.

And Bart's own suggestion proved that. She would have headed for the bridge, just like she would have headed for the bell tower. She really was out of her depth here. It was common sense, in hindsight. Just the most...basic thinking, the most rudimentary logic. She was doomed.

And then Jennifer had spotted a pretty concrete reminder of that fact.

Kizi would likely have forgotten the gun otherwise, had Jennifer not so accusatorily brought it into the public domain. Out of sight, out of mind, what you don't know won't hurt you, all of those old adages and idioms. Probably not the best sorts of philosophies to guide someone in this sort of setting, of course, but it was a smidgen smarter than relying on her own intuition. They must have become popular for a reason. Better to live by ill-fitting rules than trying to use her own instincts, as ill-attuned and poorly-honed for a terrorist attack as they were.

"Yes, I think I got rolled a gun," Kizi continued, unable to see how this could be anything other than a bad thing. A pretty decisive reason not to trust her. "Sorry. I'm really sorry." Her voice quivered, and even she was unsure if she was apologising for her assigned weapon or her accidental secrecy.
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Kiziah Saraki
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