[hr][hr][center][b][h3][color=#a81a75]Runa Johansson[/color][/h3][/b][img]https://i.postimg.cc/7YrrpX7R/moodboard-Runa.png[/img][hr][b][color=#a81a75]Location:[/color][/b] Boston, MA
[b][color=#a81a75]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]	Finally, Runa's words were no longer a lie - the residual effects from the stupid squirrel had finally subsided. She was able to breathe without feeling like a thousand poisoned darts were puncturing her lungs. The queasiness in her stomach lifted and while her eyes were red, she was no longer crying. She dried her eyes with the bag of her hand, smearing her makeup. She sighed slightly, staring at her palm. She wished the afterlife had better quality mascara. [color=#a81a75]"I'm fine, we can keep moving,"[/color] she said to Klara slightly. It was funny - now that she was calmed down, it wasn't the threat of the entire universe stressing her out, it was the mascara smudges on her face and now on her hand. 

	She followed along the others, resisting the urge to wipe the mascara off onto her clothing - she'd just need to find a wet cloth or something, she didn't want her clothes to look horrid as well. The docks were rather gorgeous. It was easy to see here how old Boston was as a city. There were tons of ships, most of them probably for fishermen of various trades. She wondered if they'd see any of those Duck vehicles that she heard existed in America. Arnora directing them towards the bar struck her as incredibly odd. Also, there was a problem - she knew America had strict drinking laws and she wasn't old enough to drink. She stuck towards the back of the trio as they went into the bar, hoping that she wouldn't stick out and instantly get tossed out by some bouncer.