Out and About: Tess/Clem
“Quaint.” Tess raised a brow at that one. Sure they were coming to grips with being in this place, and letting your guard down came with the territory, but she didn’t think they were in a place to be calling anything quaint. Then again, the woman was so fucking Southern, so quaint could easily just be a fucking word. She gave up with a shrug.
“As long as they have what we need…,” she halfheartedly warned, starting up the engine. She ran down the list of things to get in her head once more. Maybe she didn’t want a dress, not that she knew that it was even on their shopping list, but she would’ve loved new clothes. She had also done her best, folding up or over what was too long, tying back what was too big, but she would’ve killed for something that actually fit her. That wasn’t prone to dirt and blood.
As far as she knew, though, that was all wishful thinking. “You’re going to have to direct me,” she reminded her passenger and she started down the road, eyes always scanning for the undead even if her mind was thinking back to her gun and the bat in car.