The afternoon heat was becoming unbearable when they found shade under the skeletal remains of what might have once been a highway overpass. Coco dropped their pack with a grateful sigh, while Meadow wandered to the edge of their shelter, peering up at the twisted metal beams above.
"Good eye," Coco said, following her gaze. "This'll keep the sun off us for a few hours."
Meadow hummed in response, then did something that made Coco's breath catch, she smiled. Not the small, careful expressions she'd been giving before, but a real smile that reached her pale eyes and made them crinkle at the corners.
For a moment, Coco forgot how to think.
Then Meadow pointed at a small bird that had landed on one of the metal supports above them, chirping softly, and the spell broke. Right. She was smiling at the bird, not at them.
"Sparrow," Coco said quickly, grateful to have something practical to focus on. "They're everywhere out here. Hardy little things."
They busied themselves with unpacking lunch while trying to ignore the way Meadow's hair caught the filtered sunlight streaming through the gaps in the concrete above. It was just hair. White hair, but still just hair.
"Here," Coco said, handing her a piece of dried fruit.
Meadow took it with a quiet sound of thanks, settling down a comfortable distance away to eat. She had a habit of eating slowly, Coco noticed, like she was savoring each bite. It was... nice. Peaceful, even.
Which was exactly the problem.
Coco shook their head and focused on their own food. Meadow was lost, confused, probably traumatized by whatever had happened to land her in that meadow. The last thing she needed was Coco getting distracted by... whatever this was.
"We'll stay here until the heat breaks," they said, deliberately looking anywhere but at her. "We should be able to have some rest time this evening."
Meadow nodded, apparently unbothered by their sudden shift in mood. She finished her fruit and then started collecting small pebbles from the ground around them, arranging them in careful patterns.
"What're you doing?" Coco asked despite themselves.
Meadow looked up and made a series of gestures — pointing at the stones, then at the sky, then tracing shapes in the air. When Coco's expression remained confused, she simply smiled and went back to her work.
"Right," Coco muttered. "Mystery patterns. Of course."
But they found themselves watching anyway, noting the precise way she placed each stone, the concentration on her face. There was something methodical about it, like she was following rules only she understood.
After a while, she sat back to survey her work — a spiral of small rocks that somehow looked more intentional than random. She caught Coco looking and tilted her head in question.
"It's... neat," Coco said awkwardly. "Very... organized."
Meadow's smile was pleased but brief. Then she stood and wandered to the other side of their shelter, apparently content to explore their temporary refuge.
Coco used the opportunity to put some more distance between them, settling against the far wall of concrete. He needed to be more careful. For both their sakes.
"Sun's starting to move," they said after a while, even though it really wasn't. "We should probably think about leaving soon."
Meadow glanced up at the sky, then back at them with a look that suggested she wasn't entirely fooled by the excuse. But she didn't argue, just started scattering her stone pattern back to randomness before gathering up the remnants of their meal.
As they prepared to leave their shelter, Coco caught himself watching the careful way she moved, the quiet efficiency of her actions. The stone pattern she'd made lingered in their mind — too precise, too intentional. Like a ritual.
Casey shouldered their pack and tried to push the thought away. But as Meadow walked ahead of them into the wasteland, they couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than a lost traveler from before the collapse ...