She can't blame him. She's been lucky enough to only remember one instance of a horrible and brutal murder that somehow, she'd been responsible for—if that's the kind of thing that lives within Ruby's head normally, it isn't any wonder that smiles aren't always the easiest to come by.

"Hey, you'll get something one way or another. It took me a couple months—around when the sandstorms showed up, which is... probably gonna happen again soon," she says, wondering if she should go into the whole time loop thing right now or if she should wait until he has a place to sit. Two isn't a pattern, she thinks. Two is a coincidence. This cycle, if everything even is a cycle, could be very weird. She's not going to warn John of it, and her face shows that lack of uncertainty once she decides on it.

"It's like clockwork," she settles on, "The kinds of things that happen in this town. Or at least that's what everyone tells me, 'cause I've only been here for around three months and I think even the longest have only been here for six."