Summing up her home state in a few words of polite conversation was a difficult feat, but Bunny gamely gave it a try. "Well, it isn't flat, not like parts of this state I traveled through. Where I come from it's mountains and mining and moonshine, mostly. I guess that might sound like the sticks, but ..." She trailed off with a slight shrug. "It's home."
North's summary of her own story left out a good bit of detail, and Bunny could sense that the gaps were there for a reason, that this was just another person walking around pretending like their life wasn't full of holes. It was all any of them could do. Recognizing the deflection for what it was, Bunny followed the path of the conversation away from the painful parts of the past and toward a more neutral topic.
"Historical preservation is the fancy name for it, but I really just kept everything organized in the archives I worked at. Did a fair bit of waitressing too, before that." The silence didn't bother Bunny, though she missed the familiar sounds of birds and insects and life. Austin really was a city of the dead, with the living just trying to get along inside its borders. At least the unnatural quiet meant that they could hear that the street ahead of them was clear. It wasn't complete assurance that nothing lay waiting for them, but it was something.