A fish out of water, that's what she was, wandering Appalachia with only a pistol, vault-suit and Pip-boy to her name. Left to fend for herself.

Had she not been saved before she barelled through a scorchbeast nest, she'd have long been minced meat.

"It's just so different out here, y'know," she pouts. "But… maybe I'll get used to it."

Her wide blue eyes can't sit still—darting left to right, up and down. "Is the sun always this bright? And the smells. The Vault never smelled like this."