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[[Gloria Benson continued from No Crying Allowed ]]

On their way to...Gloria looked up from her feet, glancing around at their current location...to the road here, she hadn't let go of Michael's sleeve. She shouldn't, she told herself. She'd only played a tiny bit of games, but...wasn't there one where the person leading the other had to remain connected to them in some way? What was it called again, Ice? Something like that? But that game had a point, Gloria told herself, you had to remain connected in some way when on a perilous journey such as this, so you wouldn't get separated. And if they were separated, then...that'd be bad. Two was better than one. They were a team, right? A little team.

Suddenly realizing she'd probably been dragging him along and he might not've liked that, Gloria stopped walking, slowly and carefully pulling her hand away from his arm. "S-sorry...." she whispered, face burning. Oh, what if she'd made him feel like a baby? You shouldn't do that! she scolded herself. "Y-You probab-bably didn't...didn't like that..." she whispered, kicking at the ground with the toe of one of her boots. Then she just stood there a few moments, eyes on the ground, trying to think of something else to say. Something to make this less awkward.

Her mind flashed back to the claws Michael had had in the residential area. Now that they were out of danger (sort of. Out of immediate danger of being shot, at least), she could appreciate them a bit now. Claws...claws looked cool. And..."Y-You got a g-g-good weapon," she offered shyly, starting to walk, slowly, again. She looked up from her feet and at Michael again. "B-Because...because they d-don't run o-out, a-and you d-d-on't need to r-reload or...o-or things."
Edited by Moth, Feb 13 2011, 12:36 PM.
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