Being outside of the vault was... different, than Lucy’s expectations. When she sat at the window and looked out, she imagined the snow that might have fallen. She was sure it was winter, wasn’t it? But with the world as destroyed as it was, all that remained was sand. It was always sand. The thought was... frankly, depressing.

Perhaps for her own sanity, she began to rustle through the building she’d been staying at. She found old Nuka-Cola bottles, some rusting metal wires, metal rods. She bent them together, spending nearly an hour fixing them up.

She lit the fire, sitting back on her knees. The colors of the bottles, somewhat dimmed from the dirt that caked them still despite her attempts to clean them, danced off the ceiling, the walls. She sat there, watching the pitiful attempt at a holiday tree. It... was somehow comforting, in a way.