He picked at pieces of bread from his sandwich, wondering so many things, wondering if he had the right to ask them, if he wanted to know. Well, no, he wanted to know. He wanted to know these things about Whiskey, felt like he needed to, knew he wanted to even as horrible as it might be.
"What happened out there?" he asked quietly, glancing upwards at the eggshell dome above them.
He had been told what was out there, but it was hard to appreciate it - or fear it - without properly seeing it. He had no illusions that Whiskey probably had to do some crazy, even horrible, things to survive though if what he was hearing was anywhere close to truth.
Action
"What happened out there?" he asked quietly, glancing upwards at the eggshell dome above them.
He had been told what was out there, but it was hard to appreciate it - or fear it - without properly seeing it. He had no illusions that Whiskey probably had to do some crazy, even horrible, things to survive though if what he was hearing was anywhere close to truth.