Nick Valentine looked decidedly less excited than the others outside the schoolhouse; Moe who had just cleaned his uniform and Travis who-- well, excited seemed interchangeable with nervous if you weren’t picky.

Nick clung to the darkness under the awning of the alley, the embers if his cigarette glowing much like his eyes did in the light of morning. He looked grim, like he was about to head down death row. It wasn’t until Travis approached that he courteously offered a smoke and peeked up from the brim of his hat.