He held her close to his side for a moment, but soon turned to face her. Both arms closed tightly around her and he looked her in the eye, studying every imperfection and shape he saw there. He didn't kiss her or speak, but simply drank her in, as if looking long enough might mean he could become one with her, become whole with her. When he did speak, his voice was soft, low and warm. "We'll be back before you know it," he told her, and pressed his forehead lightly to hers. He fell asleep before too long there, gazing into her eyes, dreaming quiet dreams of walking through sun-dappled trees alongside a broad river with her hand in his own.<br/><br/>The next morning when he woke, still entangled with her, he took one last long moment to gaze at her, appreciating her face as she slept. He stole a small kiss from her lips before he stood, pulling carefully away from her to gather his clothes and prepare for the trip. The sooner it began, the sooner it could end. Killing was grim and unhappy work, even if it were the scum of this new earth. The Huntsmen, for all their implication in Oliver's murder and ties to the Vanguard, were just trying to survive. Carson had long learned to reconcile that survival at the cost of innocent life was not worth the price, and that those who thought otherwise would not be missed. But he didn't enjoy it.<br/><br/>His armor on, he left their room to find Letto, who was in his own chambers. It didn't take long to convince the mutant to grab his gear and prepare to set out with them, and he came back to the CIC bedroom in relatively high spirits. "Alright. We'll gear up, stop by the mess hall for some just-in-case provisions, then the armory for some ammunition... I'll get you a pistol to use, I can teach you while we're in Little Lake once it's all done. Letto's going to meet us by the Growlers and follow us up. The two of us can handle the Huntsmen easily enough."