Ruby's car purrs to a stop a block from Granite park. The sky is orange, and the air chilly crisp. Her light coat holds out the worst of it, its numerous tiny clasps ringing merrily as she moves.
"Hoo! Gettin' dark early," Ruby chirps to no one in particular, as if the season needed to be reminded of the obvious.
She rubs gloved hands together vigorously, and wonders if Rosh will be angry when she tells him.