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Yellow was a blaring color standing on its own, but in the midst of a tragedy it seemed almost like a badly placed joke. Florence adjusted her bright yellow backpack on her shoulders as John had called her to attention. Florence Davis had been named after her grandmother- it was an older name and it didn't quite fit the young and ambitious woman but she had slowly started to grow into it. Most of her family and friends had called her Flo, but she would say it wasn't much better.

[b]"How do you always know how many hours there are until sundown?"[/b] Florence questioned with a small smirk, she enjoyed picking at John's brain- his inner workings complex in comparison to hers at least so she thought. She increased her pace slightly to catch up with her companion so she wasn't as far behind as she sometimes got caught up looking at the places they had traveled through, looking for the simple necessities for survival. 

It was clear that the church had withstood a lot of the world's damage, a bittersweet reminder of things that happened. She wondered if John had been a praying man before all of this as they walked towards the towering building, the exterior grand besides the means of protection with boarded windows and the discarding of items littered around the perimeter. [b]"I never got to experience a proper 21st birthday, so if there is wine left- I think I should get first dibs."[/b] she teased, not really wanting to indulge in the imagined wine- though she wouldn't turn it down if they recovered some.