They stood there in the hallway for a moment until the ship rumbled, announcing their landing. She inhaled deeply before pulling away, a small look of reluctance on her face. "I suppose we should get ready to go," she said. "Phos sent me a new bag yesterday with some materials we might need."
She took her key out of her pocket and unlocked her door with a dull click. She pushed it open and stepped inside, leaving the door open for him. Her room was almost identical to his. Her plants were still sitting in the window, releasing the earth, sharp scent of mint and lavender. She tested the soil with her finger as she walked by, making sure that they had enough water. There was a small linen bag on her chair, one that would be able to be hooked onto her belt, and she picked it up and strapped it on accordingly. "Alright," she said, turning back to him. "Let's head to the meeting."
"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath. "Maybe one of these days I'll go into these without a pit of dread in my stomach."
"It'll be fine," she said, nodding. She paused and then glanced up at him, a contemplative expression on her face. "We seem to say that to each other a lot," she pointed out. "Have you noticed?"
"It's because of worrying, which apparently we can't help," he said, looking down at her. "It's just like 'nice' or 'lovely'."
She chuckled as they entered the main hall, her shoulders shaking slightly with the action. "We need to stop being so cliche."
A hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "You almost sound defensive, Craw," she said. "Are you offended by the idea of being trite?"
"Me? Of course not. That's ridiculous." He fixed his tie. "I don't take offense to things like that."
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I know you don't," she said affectionately. "I'm just messing with you." They stepped down the ramp into the town, and were immediately confronted with two officers. "Mr. Craw. Miss Abernathy." One of the officers seemed to be more of the leader, and he said their names as a greeting. "We are to escort you to the meeting."
The one who had spoken nodded and turned on his heel, starting into the town without a word. The other gestures, indicating that they should follow. Poppy frowned. She felt as if they were prisoners being escorted to their cells.
She squeezed his hand, glad for the comfort, and together they walked down the streets after the officials. The town hall quickly loomed into view, a stately white building with the city's flag waved in the breeze. The officials took them up to the front door and opened it for them, their faces set in a stoic line. When Poppy and Francis stepped in, they followed, and shut the heavy doors behind them. "Mr. Jeremiah will be with you shortly," the leader said in a low, clear voice. "Please, be seated."
