@ermanodelgcdo Ginny's house; dusk.
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Ermano is doing his Muppet face – well, technically speaking, he's always doing that face. It's hereditary. But the Sam Eagle similarities are especially striking at the moment given his heavily furrowed brows. A face she recognizes not only from here, but from DC, specifically when they'd gotten to the tougher parts of those sometimes grueling interviews she'd put him through.
They're directed at Ginny once again, now, those heavy-cast brows. She'd been dispatched to the cells to bring the new arrivals food and water... but mostly to gain some information. Rarely is she above prying, and maybe she'll get there once the two folks in cages warm up to her a bit, but she's not there yet. "I'm trying to be at least a little polite to kick things off. They've got to trust one of us."
She'd been standing but sits on her own front step now, a wordless invite for Ermano to do the same, staring out at the cemetery, the scattered fireflies glowing among the makeshift graves. "Did they arrive the old-fashioned way?" Meaning: approached Redwood on their own. Which, ostensibly, she'd also done... if you didn't count the fact that she was covered in blood and had promptly thrown up when trying to explain what happened. It'd been Ermano who'd found her first and, mercifully, hadn't spread the puking details.
