Dianna had seen better days. Not that she wasn't healthy or in shape, but a couple trips to hell and purgatory, combined with getting thrown against walls, well, that was something that didn't just fade away over night.
No, she felt it all as she sat in the little booth in the diner, her face all but hidden by the menu as she perused it for anything shiny and new. She saw a pair of legs walk over and sit down. Half engrossed in the decision between biscuits and gravy or pancakes, she didn't take the time to lower the menu.
"Morning," she half-grumbled, hoping her coffee would hurry the hell up and arrive.