This conversation had changed very quickly and Delaney wasn’t sure how to feel about where it was going. It was like the girl was trying to spark an existential crisis or something, and while Delaney might skew towards pessimism, this was a bit much. “Actually, I’d say that myself is the one thing that I can always rely on,” she countered, projecting confidence that she didn’t entirely feel. It was true now, but things had been touch and go on the self reliance front for a while. “Yourself is the only thing locked in when you face down the big, mean world, even if you don’t know it,” she stated matter-of-factly, half trying to gain a bit more control of this interaction.

“That must be nice,” she spoke in a low voice, practically a hum. “Not me. I mess everything up.” Eeyore wasn’t saying these things for pity, the way it may have seemed. She didn’t want someone to comfort her, reassure her that she was wrong. She knew she wasn’t. An agreement would be okay. At least that was an acknowledgement. She’d stopped noticing how concerning some of the things she said were, and the strange looks she got. If there was one thing to be said about Eeyore Addison, it was that she was painfully honest about how she was feeling. “If there was only one cloud in the sky, it would follow me... raining on everything that crossed my path...”

Delaney narrowed her eyes, not sure how to take that. Instead of responding, she looked the girl over properly for a moment and took another long sip. “Thanks for the heads up, I guess. I’m…like…good on the reliance front though.”

Eeyore wanted to squirm under the girl’s gaze, but she stayed put, just nodding at the thanks --- assuming it wasn’t very sincere. “The only thing you can rely on is yourself,” she said after a moment, bringing the conversation down even more... what she was best at. “Sometimes not even that.”

“It’s usually not, but that’s why coffee was invented,” Laney responsed, smoothly ignoring her startled jump at the girl’s voice and taking a sip from her cup.

More of a tea person than a coffee, Eeyore shrugged a shoulder. “If you get too reliant on caffeine, it’ll give you headaches when you cut down.”

“Someone’s a debby downer aren’t they?” Logan said resting against the wall across from the girl. “finally someone who i could potentially get along with.”

Eeyore thought it was an insult at first. It sounded like one. That was what she was used to expecting. But the end of the sentence caught her off guard. She glanced around before her eyes settled on Logan. “... me?”

“Oh.”  Dory thought the girl’s explanation over for a minute, twiddling her fingers in front of her.  Then the usual wistful smile returned to her face.  “That kinda sounds like the ocean.”

Noticing her smile, Eeyore wondered when the last time she’d smiled like that was. “May as well be,” she finally commented, after a slow nod in response. “It’s all the same to me.”

“Uh…it’s not raining so it’s going pretty good so far.” Kit was caught off-guard but still managed a smile and a comment of his own.

“Hmm...” She pondered over this for a moment. “Doesn’t make much of a difference when you think about it. You either go about the day wet, or you go about the day dry.”

“Mornin’ to you too.” Nuka raised his hand to gesture a small wave. Her comment managed to make a small chuckle escape his mouth. “Probably right. Mornings are the worst.”

Eeyore hummed in agreement.When she was little, she loved mornings. She used to jump out of bed with a wide smile on her face, bright eyed and ready to go... off to school, out to the yard, create her own adventure. “Almost as bad as nighttime,” she added as an afterthought. “And the afternoon...”

Dory tilted her head.  “How come?  Did they say it’s gonna rain?  That doesn’t bother me; I love the rain!  I pretty much love all kinds of weather.  Except snow.  I don’t know how I feel about snow because I’ve never seen it.”

“I don’t know,” Eeyore admitted, blinking in surprise at the other girl’s rambling. She didn’t keep tabs on the weather. It didn’t matter, she didn’t like any of it. “Snow is pretty,” she spoke softly, positively, the corner of her lips even started to twitch upwards. Then she remembered, her mood crashing again. “And cold. And wet. And dangerous.”

Francesco was minding his own business, that is if he had any business to mind. His days were awfully long and uncomplicated now that he had time to spare. Who would have thought healing would take so much time of his hands.  So he took a seat next to the young stranger and struggled his shoulders before acknowledging her words.

“It seems like any other morning. Don’t you think?”