Becca strolled aimlessly along the canyon floor, not really having a destination or a purpose in mind but just stopping when anything caught her eye. Right now what had caught her eyes was the burnt out husk of an old car. Scampering across the uneven ground she stopped at the wreck. Leaning her varmint rifle against the side of the car, she leaned in the window and opened the glove box. The angle was perfect to give her silent observer a rather nice view of her shapely bottom straining against her tight pants, should he be looking. Becca hummed softly to herself as she rooted through the glove box, pocketing the few caps she found and the half-burnt road maps and bottle of nuka cola. Not a bad start she thought to herself as she pulled herself out of the car and moved down repeating the process in the back window. She let out a little squeal of delight as she found an unopened box of sugar bomb cereal. This was turning into one hell of a good day! Quickly and reverently, she put those in her back pack for a snack later.<br/><br/>With nothing else of interest in the back seat, she moved to the trunk. A few bobby pins and mild cursing later, it was opened. A cute pout twisted her expression when, after that effort and almost the last of her bobby pins the trunk was empty. Her disappointment was short lived though when she came to her favourite part. She hurried around the car, and pulled out her small tool box. Time to check what could be salvaged for scrap. She propped the hood up and again leaned way over to begin examining things. Within very little time pieces began to either disappear into her pack or get tossed out behind her. Anything that seemed remotely useful was added to the already bulging bag. Again she began to hum, getting lost in her work, completely oblivious to the fact that her gun was now out of easy reach and frankly oblivious to most of the world around her.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>