Roadhog likes it when they are on the bike, even if he doesn't like the addition his new “partner” had fastened on to it while he was sleeping. He knows it's better than the alternative. He'd eat his mask before he lets anyone else ride his hog, but he's almost positive the skinny twat went out of his way to make it look as stupid as possible. Not that it matters. He doesn't plan on taking them around too many people anyway.
They had to flee Junkertown within a week of joining up. Or at least Hog did. He still doesn't know if Junkrat has a bounty or not, or why he's been sticking around. Hasn’t asked. Hog still doesn’t quite know what got into him. He should have left him to die in the bar, but he didn’t.... Now he's got a parasite he can’t shake still tagging along and talking like they are actually equals. Bullshit. Hog knows better.
The hulking creature hasn't talked much. Don't much like talking. He's watched the twitchy brat like a hawk, though, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's not sure if the shorty has any guts to go through with something, but he knows he has the ambition. Taking out Hog, when he has a bounty on his head from the Junker Queen herself... That would lead to a lot of pull in this fucking hellhole. Course that would mean taking on someone at least five times his size, but hunger and ambition makes people do incredibly stupid things, and Hog’s pretty sure Junkrat isn’t all there. Not that many junkers are.
The reason Roadhog has taken a particular shine to riding as of late is because the roar of the motor is just slightly above the level of the constant, never-ending chatter leaving his new companions mouth. It wasn't like Hog wasn't already prone to fucking headaches since the blast, now he has a perpetual noise machine attached to his hip. He doesn't encourage it- he's barely said 50 words to Rat in the two months they've been traveling together, and at least 20 of them were 'shut' and another 20 were 'up'.
The whole fucking continent is a road now. No grass, no trees, all flat. Could drive from one end to the other any way you wanted, and that's about all Hog's been doing. Only problem is they always eventually have to stop. They need to fuel up, get food, a place to sleep, usually get into a brawl or two in the process of acquiring those things... Right now, they're about ready to set down for the day. The sun is cresting over the dry stretch of land that used to be more than barren sand, and there isn't much in sight. No remains of a town or cabins. They got provisions, at least. Enough food to keep from starving and bedrolls, but Hog was hoping they'd be able to scrounge up something more filling. It's their third day of dried meat and evaporated milk, and it's making Hog crankier than usual.
When the sun is completely set and the cold is starting to set in, he finally slows his bike down. He thinks Junkrat might be talking. Maybe to him. He just growls and chucks the bedrolls onto the ground to make his intentions clear, getting off the bike and letting it creak and bounce back to it's full height.
Maybe they'll be luckier tomorrow, but he doubts it. He looks to his bag- the one he snarls at Junkrat when he tries to touch it. He already knows he only has 15 canisters left, which means he can get by for about a month if he's careful. Longer if he just puts up with the headaches between fights. He starts to pile up the rocks that they threw in the bottom of the monstrosity that Junkrat added to the bike so they can start a fire. It always gets freezing once the night really settles in.
He'll probably have to make the cans last longer. Heat won't die down in Junkertown for awhile, and Bruce is the only guy he knows who can make hogrogen without blowing anything up.
Speaking of which, he glances over to Junkrat, just to check and make sure he's getting started doing something useful.