"And yet, we're still not being eaten by giant birds," Shepard replied, knowing full well what a tall tale that sounded like. She couldn't help it; she was in a good mood, full of adrenaline rush. It made it easy to make friends.

The pipe whistles as it goes over her head and she joins him in the mutual seeding of future trauma in its former weilder. What the hell, was this supposed to be a bare-knuckle brawl or a literal murder scene? If the former, bad form, but if the latter...

"Some people have no manners," She isn't even wearing shoes, let alone her best face-stomping boots, "This is getting old. I'm hungry— You?"