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Who is this sassy lost child
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Raina sighed, airy and almost inaudible.

"No," she said, trying to be firm. "It's Raina." Thanks for nothing, Darius.

General supplies, huh? She and Johnny weren't running low yet. They couldn't build a radio with protein bars, and having the wrong Lily/i on their side wouldn't help much. One more person to look after, one more person they might have to abandon if the going got tough.

But a cursory search made it obvious that there was nothing here for them anyway.

"Maybe," she said softly. 'Maybe' was better than 'I don't know'. Then, "Do you have a plan?" Something besides 'get supplies, don't die'. Something concrete, something real. Something more than Raina had come up with so far.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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Demons Dance Alone · The Warehouse