The walk back to the apartment complex felt eerily quiet, the air heavy with unspoken tension. The city had always been a desolate wasteland since the apocalypse began, but tonight it seemed particularly foreboding. Mallory trudged along the cracked pavement with Scraps nestled in her arms, his tiny snout twitching as he sniffed the air. The little dog was an odd comfort in a world that seemed intent on breaking every semblance of normalcy.
"You okay, Mallory?" Altair asked, breaking the silence.
"Define 'okay,'" she replied, shooting him a wry smile. "If you mean physically intact but emotionally exhausted, then yeah, I'm just peachy."
Altair chuckled, shaking his head. "That's about as optimistic as I can expect from you."
