Canterbury Commons wasn't much to look at. A handful of patched buildings clung to the crossroads like stubborn weeds, caravans parked in crooked lines, merchants hawking wares from stalls of welded scrap. But to Tanya, it was something. It was alive.
She walked beside Ash as the caravan rolled through the gates, pointing out every landmark with sudden, almost desperate energy.
"That's Dominic and Machete's stall—they sell armor, mostly scraps but good stuff if you know what to ask for. Over there's Uncle Roe's place, he sort of runs things, keeps the caravans together. And that—oh, that's where the kids play, when they're not getting into trouble—"
Her words tumbled out in a rush, her green eyes alight as if she could push away everything she'd lost by showing Ash what was still here.
Ash listened, quiet as ever, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "You talk a lot."
Tanya blinked, then laughed softly, almost surprised at herself. "Guess I do."
At Dominic and Machete's stall, Ash's eyes caught on a set of leather armor reinforced with strips of metal plating along the chest and shoulders. Light enough to move in, but tougher than his coat alone.
"How much?" he asked.
"Sixty caps," Dominic rasped. "Seventy if you want the greaves."
Ash counted out the caps and slid them across the table. The merchant raised a brow at the silence but bagged the armor anyway.
When Ash strapped the chestpiece beneath his coat, Tanya stepped closer, tugging at the shoulder plate he fastened over it. "You look… different. Like someone you don't wanna cross."
Ash adjusted the fit, coat falling back over the reinforced leather. "That's the idea."
That evening, Tanya insisted on walking him through the Commons one last time. She led him past crooked houses and smoking brahmin pens, her arm brushing his every now and then.
"You'll be going back, won't you?" she asked finally, her voice quieter now, fragile.
Ash nodded. "Caravans don't stay in one place for long."
Her smile faltered, but she forced it back, softer this time. "Then… when you're back this way again, maybe you'll stop here too. Just for me."
Ash tipped his hat, not catching the weight behind the words. "If the road leads me here, sure."
Tanya looked at him for a long moment, lips parting like she wanted to say more. But the words never came. Instead, she simply nodded, smile trembling.
The next morning, the caravan prepared to leave. Tanya stood by the gate. She didn't ask him to stay. She didn't try to stop him.
As he passed, Ash gave her a small nod. "Stay safe."
"You too, Ash," she whispered.
She watched him go until the caravan was nothing more than dust on the horizon, her hands clasped tight around the coat he had returned to his shoulders, the memory of its warmth still lingering.