At least he was being casual about it. Claire wondered if that was because he'd just been there too long and was heavily jaded, or if he really was just that bad-ass. Fuck- the guy looked like a goddamn bear.
Claire reminded herself to make friends with him.
She grinned at him when he recognized her, and didn't even have to do it on purpose. A little flash of teeth in one side more than the other, but it was more than she'd done since she'd woken up in this dump, so good for him.
"All over- kinda," she replied while fishing a semi-squashed pack of Camel Lites out of her back pocket. "Was born in Illinois, but I bounced around a lot-" Claire paused, her voice edging off where she usually told some vague anecdote about her parents dying- car crash, robbery gone bad, murder suicide. The stories changed all the time. Only in the last two years, when she started looking for her mother, did she stop sharing any details, including the false ones. Here... the rules seemed different. She was stuck here, with other people who were stuck here. She didn't want to have to remember stories. To fill the space, she fished one of the cigarettes out from the pack with her lips, then lit it with her own plastic 7-11 lighter. "Wasn't much left for me there anyway."
She took a pull from the smoke and glanced up at him, blowing into the wind. "You?"