Wash was beyond the point of losing count of how many days he'd been separated from Zoe. He hadn't worried much the first few days, his wife was more than capable of taking care of herself and this new City had already presented them with a fair share of unexpected adventures. But after those few days, Wash had started to grow concerned. But the walking dead made acting on his concern little more than impossible. With the mule of out commission for the majority of the infestation, he'd been stuck on the ship with the Captain and Kaylee. Not a particularly bad place to be, but it didn't sit well with Wash not having Zoe there as well.
Weeks after the zombies.. Wash was out on the now operational mule from dawn until dusk. The weather wasn't ideal for the hovering transport when the temperatures dropped that low. The temperatures as well as the depth of the snowfall weren't ideal for Wash to be out at night on foot either. All he had was the hope that Zoe was alive and the knowledge that if she was, woe to the individual who'd try to alter her current, living, state.
Wash's hands were held securely around the mule's controls by the coating of frost that stiffened his gloves into place. The icy coating cracked and crumbled as he eased back, bringing the vehicle to a slower approach to the closed bay doors of Serenity. As the mule reached the ship the pilot shifted his attention to the keypad beside the accelerator. Pressing a few buttons in a precise sequence, the cargo bay doors started to part.
It was another disappointing day of searching. Peeling the frosty goggle from his face, Wash turned to give the skyline of the City one last look before...
.. a screaming, flailing figure cut through his view and embedded itself in the snow a hundred feet out.
There had been a time such a sight might have shocked him. But the City had a way of redefining what could be counted as a "surprise" in your life. He knew from the scream that it wasn't Zoe, but no one deserved to be out in the snow as night approached. It was silly to drive the mule out such a small distance, so Wash climbed down to set his feet on the snowy ground. He'd been sitting too long anyway.
With his goggles still set upon his forehead, Wash trudged through the deep drifts to where he'd seen the figure drop. As he grew closer he heard the murmuring of.. prayer? Now he wasn't as offended as the Captain to religion, but he was no Shepherd Book.
And neither was this guy, unless talking to your creator had become more of a.. bargaining sort of thing.
"Hi there." Wash's tone was rather jovial and didn't seem the least bit uneasy addressing a strangely dress pilgrim talking to his God in the snow. Some people juggled geese, after all. "I don't mean to interrupt but I happened to catch sight of that... falling routine of yours. I don't know if that's just something you do, or I thought you might need some help."