The False Priest stood up at the same time Miriam did, and spoke, “You need not force yourself to speak so archaically, child. You see, it becomes quite a bad habit,” he said in what Miriam perceived as a joke. "Regardless, it doesn't seem like you have a place to stay for the night other than this miserable place. If you’d like to join me, I’m headed to Brooklyn. A friend of mine’s told me that there’s a safe place there for people like us. Quite a long way to there, but a lengthy walk is good exercise, don’t you think?"

Miriam was a little surprised. His destination was the same as her's. It appeared that the knowledge of a safe haven in Brooklyn was spreading around fast. Miriam hoped it wasn't spreading [i]too[/i] fast though. Before she could answer, the False Priest spoke again:

"By the way, I won't tell you my name, but you can call me whatever you like. It's for security reasons I'm afraid. What shall I call you?"

[i]Ah, so he's one of those types,[/i] thought Miriam. Very cautious Unnaturals tended to pop up here and there. It was probably the reason for the guns strapped to his back. He may have even been a real seminarian at some point before the Civil War. In any case, such types usually had something to hide.

"I've heard about the place in Brooklyn. It appears that we have the same destination," said Miriam, returning to her normal way of speaking, "as for what you can call me . . . well, I don't really like making up false names. I can build any trust like that. Just call me by my middle name, Christa."

Miriam hefted her bag off the floor and inspected her belongings again, just in case she might have left something at the cemetery. "And you don't mind if I just call you Kyrie, do you?" she said while tilting her head at him.