The abrupt small smack of a notebook on the old, wooden table of the saloon and the click of a pen immediately alerts you as you stop midway of your beverage and look up to see the one and only journalist of the group; Meryl.

She can't help but smile as she flips to a new page and writes down your name on it with some bullet points to the side before pointing her pen at you. This was a common thing to see her do to Vash, but you? It's new.

"So, how long have you been traveling with Vash?" She asks randomly.