Winter Apocalypse
"I aim to misbehave'- Malcolm Reynolds, Fire Fly.
*One year. One whole year had passed ever since that second battle for the Hoover Dam. But despite a year passing, not much has changed for Kevin. He sat on an old tire, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he watched the fires in his small camp fire dance about. There was a slight wind that tugged at his tan NCR Ranger duster. Jet black hair would dance some steps in the wind. *
Just another night hmm? *Kevin said down to the cyborg dog, Rex, that lay at his feet in the dirt. The shepherd would look up at him with those doggy eyes while that pink tongue rolled out over his metal bottom jaw. A small smile would tug at the Ranger's scarred lips as he reached down and scratched Rex on the neck, mumbling a 'Good dog' to the pup. Eyes that did not match in color would look out across the darkening Mojave desert that stretched in all directions around him. Out there, more Pre-War tresures were waiting for him to find, more Deathclaws waited for him to attempt to take them out with a .22, and more adventure waited for him to find.*
