Rory fucking hated climbers. A slow zombie shuffling along was unfortunate, sure, but the more mutated ones, the climbers and swimmers and wakers, they all made up the reason the streets were so fucking perilous. Too crafty, too smart, for anyone's liking. And hearing that O'Brien had encountered one of them made her scrunch up her nose in disgust.
When it became clear he wasn't talking about a large group anymore, though, Rory stopped what she was doing and turned to face him properly.
"They broke up with you?" she asked, an eyebrow arched.
He'd brought it up. Rory was simply pushing for information now that the reasons behind this trip were theoretically surfacing.