"Moms are pretty much the toughest things in the world," she smiled a little bit, her mind going to her own mother. "And I think the longer they have to perfect mom tactics, the better off they'll be." Which, she realized, meant that she wasn't exactly the toughest there was, but she figured that after eighteen years, she'd be a pro. "I don't know," she laughed a little, "if everyone chose, I might feel less original." As far as she knew, she was the only one who could regenerate, and she liked it that way. Or maybe she didn't, since it meant that it made the most sense for her to run around in dangerous situations. "Then again, there would probably be a lot fewer deaths," she added.
She chuckled. "Yeah," she nodded her head. "I had to pay attention last time and it felt like high school. Paying attention but drifting in and out the whole time." She paused, then said, "actually, I didn't really drift off, though. I took more notes than I ever remember taking in high school." With a half-smile, she leaned against the front door to push it open. She was using her jacket as a basket, so the air was a little brisk, and served as a good wake up. At least for now. Granted, the icy ground made it hard for her coordination to keep up with her exhaustion. "Yeah," she nodded and laughed a little bit. "But it's okay. We haven't really had any time to talk, ever, and it'll be nice to talk to someone who's known Silas for a long time. You can give me all the dirt," she teased.
With a laugh, she nodded her agreement. "Alright, alright, I'll grant you that. I guess it was just a little stroke of feminism talking," she joked. "It happens every now and then." Trying to make it subtle, she took a deep breath to try and refresh her lungs, take away the exhaustion.
Rae nodded her agreement. "See, I'm right with you there," she told him. "But a lot of the people around here don't think that way." She knew of more than a couple, right off the top of her head, and most of them were the younger people. "I'm usually the helper, though. Not the helpee. It feels weird, asking for help, especially since I'm always the one giving it." She hoped he'd understand the sentiment. "But hey, I asked you, didn't I?" she added.
Snorting a laugh, she nodded. "Probably a good plan. Though I bet you're one of two guys on this compound who could probably get away scot-free with something like that," she added with a little chuckle. "I'm sure Topher would appreciate you not saying it, either way," she concluded, not realizing that she'd let the nickname slip. She'd gotten better about it lately, but her exhaustion was kind of removing some of her social filter. "Believe it or not, I have asked him. Oh, speaking of," she smirked a little bit. "Want to give me some dirt? A way to get him to learn some ballroom dancing with me?" she asked Regan.
"My brownies are pretty much the best around. They're my daddy's recipe, and he was totally the baker in the family." Because he'd always been more of a fan of sweets than Rae's mother. "So, that's what we'll go with."
Rae shrugged. "Either way, I appreciate the help," she told him. She was walking steadily. Without issue, she even managed to make it over a patch of ice. But on solid ground, asphalt that was even sprinkled with salt so that no one would slip, she found herself getting dizzy again. Don't fall, she thought. But it was futile. Within the next couple of seconds, and without memory of how it happened, Rae found herself on the ground, blood dripping from her bicep where she'd hit it on a large, jagged edged rock. "Wh... what..." she murmured.
But when her brain caught up, she realized that she needed to cover it up. Cover for herself. "I must have slipped on some ice or something," she said, glancing at her arm and waiting for the sensation of the healing to kick in. And when it did, she slammed her eyes shut as the burn overcame her arm, and hissed in pain. "It's okay," she told him. "I'm alright."