The question caught you off-guard. "Where'd ah-- well..." You had to think on it for a moment. It was at Shenanigan's Gulch, sure... but you hadn't particularly gone looking for her, and hadn't seen much of her kind in the area since. May as well be honest, you figured.

"Up north, 'n Shenanigan's Gulch. But I've seen her like down here, too. Say-- you still haven't got any neof..."

Bart retrieved a rifle before you could finish your sentence. That explained why he hadn't been approached for armaments. "...got a trusty boomstick, friend. Haven't got a need for one." Then, under his breath: "Not yet."

A mutual unease hung over you both, thicker than the rock Bart sat upon. You reminded yourself to tread extra carefully around the topic of neofauna; Bart already hadn't been partial before his brother passed, and you figured reminding him of that death through Bruce's missing companion would do you no good. Bart clearly wanted to talk about something, too, but kept stopping himself. Once he started looking away from you and fidgeting in place, you started to realize there was little more the two of you could discuss without possibly stressing him further.

So, instead of talking much longer, the two of you sat together. Bart continued to pet Mary, while you watched the Staters slowly leave the two of you and Sacramento's outskirts behind. The night descended further and further into a starry parade beckoning you towards sleeptime, the two of you only continuing to see each other thanks to Mary's dim red light and Aster's warm mane, and as the night drudged onward...