Who: Willa & Nadia Where: The Dog Park What: Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold When: Morning, September 1 2018 (backdated)
Mornings at the Dog Park had so far been mostly quiet; so many late-night revelers seemed to make for brunch rather than breakfast, except for the smattering of younger children and the mothers they had dragged out of bed along with them. It was also the best time for milking, without too many eyes on her coming and going from the guarded hangar that was home to the cows and Juniper when they weren't outside, finishing off what little remained of the grasses that had grown since the last wave of gas clouds had blown away. The amount of milk the cows gave was little more than half what they did in Richland, and Willa was worried what would happen once all the nearby land had been fully grazed over. With her stockpot three-quarters full of milk in hand, Willa stopped outside the door to offer the guard a drink before starting her walk to the mothers around the camp; perhaps a blatant bribe to carry on with his job, but Willa liked to consider it basic human kindness too.
She stretched, arching and contracting her back, sore from sitting hunched atop another upturned old pan that had been scorched to near uselessness somehow or another before being relegated to life as a makeshift milking stool. Willa's neck craned from left to right and back again, watching a woman walk nearer until finally she was close enough to be familiar. A hasty burst of panic hit her, but even on the road, Willa hadn't told Nadia about her work beyond ranching, and it faded nearly as fast. This was a coincidence, and nothing more. "Small world," she called, shading her eyes with the blade of her hand and smiling. "Glad to see you found Austin alright after all."
The other woman squinted, uncertain for a moment if she was actually being addressed... until she suddenly recognised Willa. Nadia had learned to take many things in stride, but this one threw her. The Dog Park had been a closed-off unknown, so difficult for her to gain access to—she had the impression Nate had had to swear up and down that she was to be trusted (and that felt like a kindling of warmth, community starting to rebuild itself around her, a semblance of family stitching itself together in pieces).
So she went still and motionless for a moment, caught between one step and the next, before her boot landed in the dust and she kept walking, her face settling into astonishment.
“Oh, meu deus. Is that really you? Am I imagining things?” Nadia sped up until she was skidding to a halt in front of the blonde, desperately taking in each and every detail of her former traveling companion. The wisp of hair drifting loose and into Willa’s eyes, the hands clenched on a heavy pot, looking like some picture out of an idyllic pastoral painting, a Germanic milkmaid. “I did not expect to see you again! What are you doing here?”
Willa grinned at her, setting the pot on the ground to give the other woman a quick squeeze. Nadia’s arms tightened around her; their time together meant she could be more physically demonstrative with Willa than with most, the Brazilian’s trust already earned.
"Ah, I came to Austin to bring my brother the start of a herd, and then I came out here for a bit to see an old friend." If Nadia had made a home out here, the odds of hearing gossip about Willa's conspicuous arrival were high, and it seemed like this was a refreshing surprise for the both of them. "How're you? Did you find your brother?"
Nadia shook her head, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bitter and forlorn as when they’d first crossed paths: Willa had found her lost and alone, hard-bitten like a mangy cat, all of her traveling companions lost to the wastes, and fresh off the pain of the military scooping up Antón. They were two women with brothers in the apocalypse; it was one of the things that had tied them together in sympathy.
“Not yet,” she said, sounding bright and optimistic despite the denial. “But I have more leads than before, so you have come across me at a very good time.” She glanced at the pail again, curiosity getting the better of her as it often did. “Is that what I believe it is?”
"Drink up," Willa said with a laugh. It had been months since Nadia had made camp with them, and Willa guessed it was the last time she'd had the chance at milk too. "There's only two of 'em here and they're gonna dry up if I can't find some way to graze 'em in the middle of a wasteland, so get it now while there's still some left." It was the opposite of the drive they had found her on; dozens of cows eating well, producing so much milk that they'd had to simply pour it out on the ground rather than try to keep the dairy from spoiling.
If her brother had been here it didn't bode especially well, not if the photographs Olinger had shown Willa during her briefing were an accurate indication of the kind of slaughter that was left in the wake of Hellhounds clashing with police. "You think Alejo was living out here?" she asked, investigative instincts perking despite herself at the mention of leads.
Nadia had leaned down onto her haunches, picking up the cup dangling from the side of the pail, to dip it into the liquid and try a sip of the milk—and she was quiet for a moment, simply savouring the rich creamy taste of it with a little contented sigh. Ah.
Raw milk was so different from the store-chilled bottles she’d bought, back in the old days. It was sweeter.
She squinted up at Willa where she stood silhouetted in the sun, dark hair falling into her eyes, which she brushed away absentmindedly. “Oh, no,” Nadia said. “He was never here — he is in San Antonio, actually. But there was someone here who knew him, so I came for information.”
The Brazilian bounced back to her feet, dusting off her knees. Not realising that both of them were, in fact, doing the same thing: chasing leads.
Willa nodded; she understood well the hunt for anyone who might be connected to your target. "Are you heading back south then?" she asked. Nadia seemed to be cursed to live as a nomad in the apocalypse; Willa wasn't sure how she managed without having a home base on this continent.
Nadia considered it for a moment, but a rotating array of faces skidded across her awareness — Marina, Olivia, Savannah, Mort, Bunny, Nate, and her promise to him that she wouldn’t leave. “Not yet. Apparently that city is in not very good shape, so I will probably be staying here for the foreseeable future. And you?”
She turned a hopeful look onto the blonde, her eyes dark and expectant.
"Iiiiii," Willa drawled, looking around the camp. "I'm not really sure yet? It's kind of complicated." Her weight shifted from foot to foot, and then she stooped to pick up the pail, suggesting with a gesture that they walk a bit together. "It's an ex, not a friend," Willa admitted, unaware of how intertwined their paths had become. "And kind of a big one, the kind where maybe it's better that you don't see them again, but you can't really help it." The apocalypse had robbed her of all of her of all her best confidants, and there was something familiar and kindred that had made Willa like Nadia from the first night they'd talked in soft voices, keeping watch over the cows and Willa's sleeping fellows, ears sharp for the sound of raiders or fevered undead even as they made a new friend.
It was only a couple extra weeks of acquaintance tacked onto their history, but the wasteland tended to drive people together: saving each others’ lives fostered trust so much quicker than a dozen half-hearted coffee dates could have, and Nadia owed the other woman a debt. Unexpectedly seeing Willa again was a relief, a reminder that there were people who knew her before Austin.
Even if they were just a few weeks.
“Mmm, I know the feeling. Not these days, of course, but there were a few very bad ideas back in Rio.” Nadia’s nose wrinkled, her face squeezing tight with mock displeasure. Brash, over-arrogant boys with their scruff and attitude. She’d always picked them rather unwisely. “Seeing an ex is so rare these days, I cannot blame you for not being able to help it. How long were you together?”
"Three and a half years." At least if this was Nadia's brother's kind of crowd, there wouldn't be the same level of judgment for having a serious relationship with a future outlaw; nothing like what she would get once she saw her mother again. "Lived together for two and a half."
“Almost four years! And living together! Then, of course you would come see him.” Nadia accepted it almost without question, her smile crooked as she fell into step beside the other woman and they started sauntering off towards the resource hangar. “I assume it is complicated, though, if you say it’s big. If you need somewhere else to stay, you could come see me at the library anytime. I’m living there now.”
It was a surreal moment, falling into this conversation—it was almost as if they were gabbing away with painfully normal girl talk, possibly over a drink or two. Except it was a hot morning in Austin, Texas, over raw milk and the gutted bones of their pasts.
Willa smiled at the invitation; it was good to receive even if she was moderately confident that the library in question was a public shelter, rather than the sort of southern hospitality and guest bedrooms that had been on offer from any number of friends in the years before the outbreak. It was easier to make a niche for yourself when there was someone who wanted you there and was willing to show you around. "Is it nice?" Willa asked. "You like it alright?" Guest as she was at this camp, Willa suspected she wasn't allowed to extend a mirrored offer for a prolonged visit in Bode's home, even if the company would have been nice to have.
Nadia nodded immediately, fervently. Savannah had earned her loyalty by saving her life that first day, but even if she hadn’t, the rest of the library had speedily won her heart. “So much more than I would have expected,” she admitted. “Most shelters and groups I saw on the way north were... you know, small, and paranoid. But the library is well-organised, safe, and community-focused. The people are wonderful. I did not think I would stay that long, but now I think it could be a home.”
"Good!" Willa declared, genuinely happy for her friend. The homes she had managed to make for herself all seemed tenuous, but that didn't mean she didn't understand the comfort that came from having a place that was your own safe haven in the storm that the world had become.
Catching a glimpse of that tell-tale crimson wolf on the back of a leather vest, Nadia considered the situation. She knew the Hellhounds were inextricably tied to her shelter now, too, a complication erupting and ending with the death of her leader. She was supposed to be treading carefully around this group and the Capitol, and here she’d gone and gotten involved in both—
She wondered if Willa had been here for Gray.
So she asked, offhand and curious.
“How long have you been at the park?”
"This is the third day," Willa answered. In some ways it seemed longer; in some ways it seemed like she'd only just arrived. "I don't think I've worn out my welcome yet, but it's probably a bit of this," Willa lifted the pan of milk a few inches. "Everyone goes a bit crazy when they realize it's not evaporated or powdered."
“Understandably so, because it is delicious.”
She nodded in agreement, refraining from mentioning that the cows were starting to produce less and less, the longer they were away from Richland and the steady supply of grass and hay and sweet water that the land could offer to those who lived further off from the population centers that had been razed by the gas. "Are you here for the day, or staying with Alejo's friend?" she asked instead.
“I stayed the night, but I will be leaving today.” Nadia’s nose crinkled. “I do not think they would welcome me simply trying to vacation here; they were very careful about even letting me come in for the one day. A wise policy, but... as if I could be a threat.” She spread her hands. She was a passable shot with a rifle after a couple years of practice, a decent runner, and good at hiding from shufflers—but at 5’4”, she hardly cut the most imposing figure.
Olinger's promise that women were easily welcomed stirred in her mind, but considering the source wasn't quotable, that was where the information stayed. "I don't know what kind of threat one person is, to all of this," Willa agreed with a laugh, her free hand gesturing to the outlaw camp in general, fully aware that she was likely the lone exception to the rule and had been ushered inside with no questions asked. "Or how long I'll stay myself. But I promise to stop by the library before I leave town."
“Good.” The thought of her leaving made Nadia’s mouth flicker for a moment, a ghost of her disappointment—somehow Willa was the person she’d known longest, and just seeing her around had been a comfort. But the other woman had described Richland in enough detail that Nadia could never begrudge her wanting to be home, with her family and friends and un-gassed pasture.
“I have already eaten, but if you are going to the hangar, I’ll come with,” Nadia added. The patches tended to look at her a bit warily, what with being a temporary visitor rather than a new camp bitch; she would hang onto whatever scraps of time she could get with Willa as possible.
"I just have to bring the milk to Ruth," Willa answered with a nod. "Then we can go out for a walk, or we can go back to where I'm staying and get out of the sun if it gets too hot." She might not feel free enough to ask Nadia to stay, but surely Bode couldn't begrudge her inviting a friend for lunch, not when the simple pleasure of it was so hard to come by these days.
“That sounds lovely. I must be off again in the afternoon, probably, but we have time until then.” Nadia turned her head up towards her friend, smiling, and then fell into an amiable stroll beside her.
It was so much more sedate and calm than those frenzied hours when they’d first met, fending off zombies on the road, Nadia sheltering by Willa’s side as the blonde picked off the crawlers.