[This is a goggles on, bandana up kind of ride for sure, and he fishes his bandana out of his pocket. It's dirty and wet but better than getting mud all over his face and in his teeth, and so he nods to her as he ties it around his face.

Time bandit time, just like they'd agreed days, or months, or who knows how long ago. It's a blur.]

Yeah, think they're in the front of that one on the left. That's where I saw 'em last, anyway.

[He holds a hand back to take them, but meanwhile his eyes are on the road ahead, puddled and dark. The bike's headlight will only do so much on a night like this. They'll have to roll out of here slower than he'd like.

At least the rain is quickly washing dirt off his face and out of his hair. He'll take the free shower. And once his goggles are on, he turns the key, flips the kickstand up, and gets rolling. He can feel the tires slip in the puddles - this road isn't packed by the weight of cars, just feet and horses and wagons, and the mud is like clay.

The wind gusts straight at them, and he grips the handlebars hard to keep the bike pointed forward as a branch tears off a nearby tree and flies right over their heads.]

You hold on tight back there, baby girl!