Tillie blinked. “[color=f26522]Huh?[/color]”

She realized she must have sounded rather rude, but, in her defense—[i]huh?[/i]. The perception of pilots in the public sector versus governmental was often contradictory, but Tillie had always been immune to it. She’d managed to carry that starry-eyed adoration with her from her childhood bedroom all the way up to the Aerie. In part she figured that was due to Runa’s pilots being generally well-liked; certain social histories documented that the earliest batches of a nation’s pilots were often the most well-regarded, followed by the pilots who came in to replace those who were especially [i]ill-regarded[/i]. Had she grown up somewhere like Eusero, or Helburke, where pilots were often seen doing less-than-heroic things—case-in-point being their newest guest—she might have had an entirely different view of things. 

For instance, she might not have trusted that Quinn really did just want a hug. Thankfully though, Tillie found herself utterly incapable of imagining any other possibility. 

“[color=f26522]Oh—uhm! Sure! Sure let me just…[/color]” she fumbled with the suit, prying it off her legs and feet. “[color=f26522]Still sticky, wouldn’t want to—there we go![/color]” Tossing it onto a wheeled table, Tillie darted over and wrapped her arms around Quinn. Another embarrassingly high-pitched sound escaped her, but she ignored it. 

The girl wasn’t very tall, all told. It was a bit like hugging her niece. Tillie liked to imagine they’d have gotten on—then again, Quinn could probably get on with just about anyone. 

Stepping back, she let out a long, contented sigh. “[color=f26522]Gosh, I don’t even know what to say! Some places, people have to pay out the nose just stand [i]near[/i] pilots! Uhm! Not that I wouldn’t![/color]”