@cheatdeaths .
Something had irrevocably changed after their visit to Caesar's tent. The work became different, more direct and more final, the visage of war on the horizon closer and more real now with a face behind it.
And Boone had been quieter. It wasn't a tortured, brooding silence as much as it was something more sullen and pensive; he'd stared into the face of the devil, and had gotten away with it unscathed.
But Six-- things had changed with Six. The quiet moments of tension between them were fewer, shorter, whether Boone was trying to avoid them or simply staring them down the barrel with more bravery was hard to tell. The work was all frantic; it was hard to tell when they did crop up. Maybe he'd avoided his feelings unscathed, and better for it. Maybe those feelings were just lying in wait for a quiet moment.
But for the time being it wasn't on his mind-- there was something more pressing, taking up that space.
It was the looming canyon spread before them just past the lip of the highway, layers of ancient red rock and signage of NCR make: BITTER SPRINGS CAMP. Six had taken him along for a reason; his experience with the place and his former military was impossible to pass up on a mission like this. But she knew what was lying beneath, the storm behind his glasses as Craig Boone looked over to Coyote Tail Ridge. Silence.
"Let's try and keep this short and sweet."
