Bucky kind of understands the happiness that well fighting clothes can bring. Academically, he knows he used to enjoy the same. But that man feels like a stranger to him now, far away and ill-remembered. Better to let the past lie undisturbed.

But he welcomes walking. Bucky finds a that the simple act feels so novel: to stroll, unhurried and with no distinct direction. And no spilled drink mishaps on their way out the door; already his luck seems to be improving. "I'll defer to you on direction; I haven't done much wandering myself."