Blake's eyes narrow, thoughtful. "That's a really good point."
One that she hadn't really considered before now, actually. She'd seen the convoy and had known that someone must have driven it here, to this exact spot, to receive them where they'd been summoned in the garage. But she hadn't stopped to think about where those people might be now.
Still in the hallway, she pokes her head into another door, and sees a different bedroom -- this one bigger, with a queen bed instead of the single bunks. Blake has a tiny, brief thought about sharing one with Yang, and hurriedly shoves that thought down before she starts blushing and giving herself away.
Nope, not acknowledging those feelings, thank you. She-- Yang lost an arm because of her. Went through abandonment trauma all over again because of her. Blake can't have feelings for her. She can't dump even more problems on Yang.
So she returns to the bunk room, arms folded, leaning against the doorway, doing her best to not think about things related to... feelings.
"We'll have to keep an eye out. The truck at the front could be automated, I guess, but there might be someone or something tending to the rest of this convoy. If we can find one, we can question them. Maybe try to figure out a way home."
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One that she hadn't really considered before now, actually. She'd seen the convoy and had known that someone must have driven it here, to this exact spot, to receive them where they'd been summoned in the garage. But she hadn't stopped to think about where those people might be now.
Still in the hallway, she pokes her head into another door, and sees a different bedroom -- this one bigger, with a queen bed instead of the single bunks. Blake has a tiny, brief thought about sharing one with Yang, and hurriedly shoves that thought down before she starts blushing and giving herself away.
Nope, not acknowledging those feelings, thank you. She-- Yang lost an arm because of her. Went through abandonment trauma all over again because of her. Blake can't have feelings for her. She can't dump even more problems on Yang.
So she returns to the bunk room, arms folded, leaning against the doorway, doing her best to not think about things related to... feelings.
"We'll have to keep an eye out. The truck at the front could be automated, I guess, but there might be someone or something tending to the rest of this convoy. If we can find one, we can question them. Maybe try to figure out a way home."