Stepping out into the open, Clovis pauses for a moment, Onyx only a step behind. He’s just in time to watch as Jesse lands on the ground and takes out four walkers, turning to strike another. He glances around to assess the situation, spotting the four zombies to their right across the field heading their way.
Onyx places a hand on the hilt of his (own) knife as if to remind himself it was there if it was needed. He tugs once on the back of Clovis’ shirt to silently let him know he was ready to go.
It only takes a few steps for Clovis before deciding he was close enough to fire. He aims his revolver, taking out two then three zombies, alerting all of the others to his presence.
Even though this whole zombie thing has been going on for a while now, the sight of the zombies turning and slugging over towards himself and Onyx was still a sight that made his heart drop; a sight that still made him fight panic setting in. He swallows, taking a few more shots.
Theres only seven left, we’ve got this.
He holds his ground even as their stench fills the cool air around him, making onyx cough behind his back.
Jax made an effort to make no noise. His footsteps only left tracks. No noise. Fining another safe house wasn't going to be easy, but he could manage. He squinted his eyes as his body was shocked by the bright sun. He could feel the pain behind his eyes as a way his body told him he needed sleep. That wasn't going to happen. Jax was aware of a small farm 20 meters from here, but bad news for him, he needed to walk through the forest. He prepared his satchel and readied a knife. Stepping over a log, he started his journey through the thick foliage. The ground was trampled from zombies paving their own paths. All the mud from the night's previous rain turned into cracked dirt, leaves, and acorns stuck in. He could hear the groans and smell the rotting flesh of zombies. In a dense area like this, the temperature dropped, and he could feel the cold air on his skin.
Trotting along the rugged path he knew, he spotted two zombies and groaned. He could barely keep himself up, and now he had to fight zombies. Jax looked at his silver knife and locked eyes with the zombies. He walked up to them, brandished his knife, and (Gore warning) slit their throats, the blood spraying all over him. He drove the knife into their empty skulls, watching the dirty zombie blood leak out. The two zombies fell to the ground dead (Again). He continued on his way, cutting his arm on a branch. "Shit." He muttered, holding the gash with his other hand. He made his way through the forest, gazing over the rolling farmland (He should be where Cass is or near). Jax spotted the old farmhouse he visited as a child and smiled, but it brought up memories. Jax completed the last of his journey, reaching the door of the house. He wasn't sure if someone had taken refuge or not, so he gave the door a little knock. Whoever opened it could see a 21-year-old covered in blood with a large gash on his left arm.
(Oh shit, y'all started already, whoops. My bad)
(It literally just started, lol, so you’re good 👍🏻)
Frenchie crinkled her nose as the smell of the decayed remains of a now thoroughly beaten walker reached her nose. She shook the blood off of her worn baseball bat as best she could before holstering it in it's usual loop in the utility belt around her waist before continuing down the empty city streets.
She needed to get out of here, she'd already stalled enough with her two week rest here and needed to keep moving. But to keep going meant another risky dash through the woods and she'd barely gotten out of the last one with her life, if the newly sewn patches on the old soccer jersey she always wore were any testament to it.
Frenchie took a quiet breath and made her way down another side street, constantly watching her back and ducking behind garbage cans and broken pieces of rubble when she needed. Because of her small stature, Frenchie found it was a lot easier for her to hide and find cover than most people. But that also made escape when she was cornered that much harder seeing as it made her stride that much shorter. But it's why she'd taken up running. If she couldn't be tall, she could certainly be fast.
Frenchie did as she does best in this broken city filled with dead people trying to eat her. Move to higher ground. So in she ducked to an old high rise apartment building and started up the stairs, leaping over decayed pieces and weak spots as she climbed quietly. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would brave the woods and move forward.
(I'll get my answer up in a moment, maybe later on cause I'm a bit busy right now)
(I know we literally just started but i already love this roleplay with my whole heart)
Cass slips on his battered steel-toed boots, the black leather peeling and the color fading from them. The souls were only a little bit thinner than when he first found them in the shed near the farm house. They were a little tight but they were a lot better than the ones he had before.
He steps to the stone fireplace in his living room, grabbing one of the fire irons and reaching for the handle of the door.
But that's when he heard a knock.
Cassius froze in place, his heart beating hard now and his mouth dry. It was another human obviously. But from where? Cass had given up hope of finding another human around here long ago. Why now?
He looks back towards the stairs in the living room. Ophelia should be sound asleep still. Though she was a light sleeper so she could have been woken up by the knock.
oh no and she's going to wake up and I'm not going to be there….i hope she doesn't get sad about it.. he thought, feeling mean for leaving her up there. The two had become very co-dependent in this world that was for sure. What else was he supposed to do?
Cass takes a deep breath and unlocks the door with a small click before turning the knob and opening the large oak door.
He blinks a few times in awe looking down at the boy, his eyes wide.
should I invite him in? no my daughters in there. But he's covered in blood. He could have rabies? he could have been bitten. Obviously I'm going to help him if he wants some but-
His mind was going a thousand miles per hour. What to do. What to do.
Dark clouds were already rolling in, though they were still a good bit away from them Cass couldn't leave him out here alone in the storm when it did come. For now the sun hadn't been covered from where they were just yet so he had time to think.
Though all he could get out was a simple "hello"
His voice was a bit scratchy but calm and his lips offered a small smile that threatened to disappear any second.
_
Jesse swings her machete into the side of the fourth zombies skull, kicking it in the chest to push it back, the machete ripping out of its head as it falls to the ground, toppling over one of the bodies.
She basically jumps out of her skin at the sound of gunshots, her eyes wide and lungs froze as she panics. She quickly ducks behind the RV, though having to take out 2 other zombies while she was at it. She peaks out, looking around for the shooter. She hoped to God that whoever it was, they weren't shooting at her. She's ran into too many groups (she's definitely overexaggerating this only happened once) that tried to kill her and sometimes eat her as well. Maybe it was because she was so beefy. That's what she thought the reason was. She would taste good, she knew it. Or maybe that was her god complex talking.
She tries to catch her breath but with every inhale she wants to throw up, able to taste the flesh around her, the cold air around her almost burning her already dry throat.
The gunshots seemed to be taking out the zombies. four left now that she took out those three. She wanted to come out but wasn't sure that was the best idea. Who in their right mind would step into the line of fire willingly unless they had a death wish?
Her hand goes down to her holster to grab her pistol, though irritated she left the silencer in the RV. That silencer had become her best friend in this world.
Though when she grabs the pistol…that's the thing. She doesn't. Its not there.
She panics a little more now, looking frantically around for her pistol. Though its fallen on the other side of the RV right in front of the forest. Her eyes latch onto it and doesnt leave it, trying her best to think of a plan to reach it without getting shot.
"damnit" she curses before feeling a hand on her, gripping her arm hard. Jesse gasps at the sudden touch, as she was far too focused on getting her gun to protect herself from the shooter when she almost forgot about the dead around her.
(I'll get my answer up in a moment, maybe later on cause I'm a bit busy right now)
(yeah you're good take your time <3)
(lol you can never be too safe! XDD)
Jax heard the door click open, and he looked at the person standing in the doorway. He wasn't sure what to do, what to say. His arm was bleeding heavily, but something left a bad taste in his mouth. How could he trust another person easily after being abandoned and almost murdered by many others? His cut looked painful, the blood mixed with wood debris, but his face was blank. No pain, no sadness, no happiness, just blank. "Hello." Jax's voice was flat. He didn't like showing any emotion to people. It would hurt him in the long run. It was better to protect himself like this. "Can you—help me?" He clinched his jax. The words help me were forced out of his own mouth. He hated asking for help. Jax believed he could do just fine on his own, but he needed his arm to be bandaged, and a safe place to stay. Being out in a world swarmed with zombies would get him killed in the long run. He shifted his satchel, bringing it close to his person. He removed the bloody hand from the wound and grabbed something from inside. It was his notebook, and he hesntently handed it to the stranger. Handing over such a possetion showed turst in someone whom he just met, but if he couldn't talk for himself, then he'd let the notebook do all the work. Things Cass could notice by looking at him was: A.) the bloody knife with the deep red zombie blood on his belt, B.) how tired and thin he looked, and C.) how he swayed from side to side about to pass out.
Cass took in the mans appearance, getting more concerned the more he notices the details. Though his eyes locked on his knife, wary to even let him near.
He loved helping people as much as he could don't get him wrong. But as time went on the more dangerous newcomers were and he had become far less trusting.
But everyone deserves a chance right? Especially in this world where you spent most of your time running and fighting for your life. The least Cass could do was let him in.
He holds his hand out, "if i help you, would you be willing to hand over you're weapons? i just want to make sure nobody gets hurt and i can trust you alright?" he asks softly, looking in his eyes. He knew it would be a lot easier to try and punch him and knock him out. Then he would take him inside and patch him up without him trying to hurt anyone.
Though Cass decided he would try to do that if he doesn't comply.
Ophelia rolls over in the bed and opens her eyes to find the bed empty. Her brows furrow "dad?" she calls though still whispering. They had gotten used to talking quietly just in case anything was nearby.
She slips out of bed, her feet hitting the hard wood with a soft tap before you hear the soft pitter-patter trail down the stairs. Her hair was a dark brown mess of curls that falls all over her face. She had one a thin brown and tan sweater Cass had made for her and some shorts. She was small and skinny, her skin tone a dark caramel color and her cheeks were rosy. One side significantly more than the other as you could see which side she slept on.
She steps off of the stairs and into the living room to see her father in the open doorway and a man that was hurt. Her eyes widen and she goes to hide behind one of the couches though whoever was at the doorway most likely saw her.
Taking out another zombie, Clovis notices Jesse’s momentary alarm before she dives behind the RV for cover.
Damn it, I should shout something to let her know we’re just helping.
He swallows, taking a step back as his focus goes back to the zombies closing in and reaching for him.
Onyx lets go of his shirt when he steps backward and takes a few steps back himself, feeling a drop of rain land on his arm. A chill runs up his spine as the voices of the zombies draw closer, close enough to have a hold of Clovis now. He draws the knife from his belt, planting his feet firm and staying silent.
The sky rumbles, a few raindrops spilling over the dark clouds as the background of blue is quickly enveloped. It starts as a sprinkle but quickly turns into a downpour, wetting the warm and rotting bodies around, adding to the stench instead of washing it away.
Clovis quickly holsters his gun, kicking a zombie in the gut while doing so to buy himself some time to attack hands on. Onyx takes another few steps back with the sound of Clovis’ foot landing a blow to the zombie, making to sure to stay a good bit away front the walkers if he could. He was still half asleep anyways, not to mention they’d only just left the woods and the terrain was unfamiliar.
Thrusting his foot through the almost-hollow chest of the zombie on the ground, then crushing it’s skull, Clovis whips his head around to try to find Jesse, aware that she’d probably taken him as a threat. He doesn’t look for long before being grabbed by a zombie from the right. He takes it by the hair before it can lunge at his skin.
Jax looked at the stranger with weary and wary eyes. If anything can to, he could still protect himself with hand-to-hand combat. He glanced at the knives and daggers on his belt. Then looked back up at Cass. How trusting was he going to be towards this man? He's never trust anyone. But survival instincts also told him that if he wasn't stitched up soon, his blood might attract something. All the blood from the bleeding wound dripped onto the porch, and heard the sound of low groans, and he stood straight up. He had no other choice if he wanted to survive. "Yeah… I-I can do that." This interaction made him nervous, but he unlatched his utility belt with all the weapons and gave it to the man. He glanced over to his bag. "Do worry about the bag. I only store my notebook." He held it up, for it was still in his hand. "And important things like medicinal plants and food." His tone was still bleak. He wasn't sure if he'd ever open up to this man. He wasn't about to beg or get pity. Jax leaned on the wooden doorway, supporting himself with his right arm, his good arm. He saw a small figure dart across the wooden floor, and he understood the man. "You have a child with you." He muttered. "I can leave if you aren't safe with me around. I'll brave the zombies and take care of my injured arm myself."
The blood from his arm dripped quicker and quicker onto the concrete, onto his boots. This boy was an obvious wreck. No one could say how long he's been on his own. Jax knew it as nine hellish years alone, six months fighting zombies. His symptoms had gotten worse, and the groans of the zombies getting closer elicited a panic in him. Breathing started to become difficult, and as he looked Cass in the eyes, he could keep away the emotion that triggered all moral response to help someone.
//Gore Warning//
Jesse looks at the zombie grabbing her arm with its boney hand, the muscles having deteriorated a decent amount so its grip wasn't strong enough to hurt only to startle her.
She grabs its wrist, trying to pull it back but the flesh slips off like a sleeve as she does. Feeling the skin rip from its muscles made Jesse let go and punch it in the face instead due to her instinct for when something grosses her out and/or causes her to panic.
Though surprised when it didn't knock out the zombie (duh) she picks a stick up off the ground, having dropped her machete and didn't have time to look for it, she stabs it through the zombies eye and into its brain. Juice mixed with blood oozed from the whole in the eye socket now as she dug the stick deeper into its skull until it stops moving. She wipes the residue of the zombies skin on her cargo pants with disgust.
Jesse lets the zombie fall to the ground and looks around the RV, confused as to where the rest of the zombies went.
She follows the sound of their feet trudging along the hard gravel and their groans as they become more distant. Stepping over to the other side of the RV to see a big man fighting a zombie with his bare hands.
She thought about whether or not to help him. She could use this chance to get the gun and have him surrender because even though she's a good fighter, she didn't want to try fighting this lumberjack cowboy lookin dude.
Jesse quickly goes for the gun, sliding on the gravel to reach for it as it fell slightly underneath the vehicle. She pushes herself up quickly and cocks the gun, pulling back the slide over the top and aiming it at the man. She changes her aim to the zombie he was holding back by its hair and pulling the trigger back, shooting it dead. Her aim immediately goes back to him, not noticing the zombie walking towards him.
Clovis knees the zombie at the same time as Jesse shoots it through the head. He whips around to see her, the gun pointed at him now.
I swear to god, if you-
He catches sight of the last zombie closing in on him from the corner of his eye, and turns, punching it square in the face, taking out its deteriorating jaw and sending it stumbling backwards to the ground. He pulls his gun out, shooting it twice through the skull before it lays still.
He blinks, standing frozen for a second before holstering his gun again and wiping his hands on his shirt. He turns, making eye contact with Jesse, already soaked from the downpour, though the rain hadn’t done much to wash away the blood across his face and arms.
Cass takes the belt slowly, hanging it up on a nail he had put into the wall to hang things up. Mostly for jackets of sorts but a bloody belt with weapons attached will work as well.
His heart stops at his words about the child and he takes a deep breath. "You're okay to stay" he says stepping back "you try anything I'll make sure you regret it though" he says in a lower, quieter voice so Ophelia couldn't hear.
She peaks her head out from behind the couch, her big eyes looking at the two.
"Fia can you go back upstairs honey?" he asks kindly, stepping back to look at her. She pouts, sticking out her bottom lip "but he needs help. Can I help him?" she says, disappointed he had told her to go upstairs. Cass sighs "okay stay in the living room. If I need your help I'll call for you okay?" he says, looking back over to the man, stepping aside to let him in, though his back was turned to Ophelia, blocking the strangers way to her if he tried anything.
Fia nods, jumping onto the couch and leaning on the back, her big brown eyes locked onto the strange bleeding man.
He looks at the porch, frowning.
he's getting blood all over my porch…I just scrubbed it as clean as I could get it he thought, trying not to be disgusted too much.
"follow me to the kitchen" he says calmly.
Cass holds himself high and confident, his appearance tends to lean more on the scary side not only due to his height but his mass and the fact that he has a huge scar over his face, going through his right eye and lip. Though despite his threatening appearance, he made up for it with his calm aura. (lol I sound like a hippie but idk how else to describe it)
Jesse keeps her gun on the man, her dark hair sticking to the sides of her face and neck as the rain pours down on them. The cold droplets hitting her skin, sending a stinging sensation along her body. Her skin was dry but she still didn't like the rain any more than when she did before this all started.
She tries to steady her breath but it was hard to do so when every time she would breath in, the water dripping from her face would fall into her mouth as she did so.
"what do you want?" she asks, her voice loud and strong as she spoke. Her thick german accent more evident than ever at the moment as she was speaking louder over the rain.
Frenchie crinkled her nose as the smell of the decayed remains of a now thoroughly beaten walker reached her nose. She shook the blood off of her worn baseball bat as best she could before holstering it in it's usual loop in the utility belt around her waist before continuing down the empty city streets.
She needed to get out of here, she'd already stalled enough with her two week rest here and needed to keep moving. But to keep going meant another risky dash through the woods and she'd barely gotten out of the last one with her life, if the newly sewn patches on the old soccer jersey she always wore were any testament to it.
Frenchie took a quiet breath and made her way down another side street, constantly watching her back and ducking behind garbage cans and broken pieces of rubble when she needed. Because of her small stature, Frenchie found it was a lot easier for her to hide and find cover than most people. But that also made escape when she was cornered that much harder seeing as it made her stride that much shorter. But it's why she'd taken up running. If she couldn't be tall, she could certainly be fast.
Frenchie did as she does best in this broken city filled with dead people trying to eat her. Move to higher ground. So in she ducked to an old high rise apartment building and started up the stairs, leaping over decayed pieces and weak spots as she climbed quietly. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would brave the woods and move forward.
Ryder peels the crust off of his bread, taking a bite. He squints, looking up at the rumbling clouds. “Unless you wanna kill that fancy book of yours, we should head in soon.”
David nods, sitting next to him on the roof, his solar powered notebook computer setting on his thighs as he types away. “Mmhm.”
Ryder raises an eyebrow, leaning over to see the screen but quickly decides all of the garbled symbols and letters were uninteresting. He turns his attention back to his bread. “Do You think he might take other zombies instead of people? Like, is there a zombie rule where they don’t eat each other.”
Pausing, David looks to Ryder with a squint and his mouth slightly open.
If they would eat other zombies then we wouldn’t have this problem, you idiot.
He sighs, “no, he wouldn’t take rotting flesh. There has to be something about the fresh blood and organs of live humans that satisfies them.” Turning back to the computer, he jots a few last things down and closes it, just in time to feel a drop then two of rain.
Ryder pushes himself up, squinting and looking at the street below them. “So, you don’t think if they found him they’d eat him?”
David presses his glasses up before standing and walking towards the door to inside from the roof. “He’ll be fine, Ryder. Let’s get inside before we’re both drenched.”
(I put them on Frenchie’s roof by the way)
Clovis raises his hands as a sign of defense. “I just came from the forest. Even if I wanted to just walk by, they would have followed.” He explains, his voice raised enough to carry over the sound of the rain. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
She might have supplies in that RV, so I’ll hold off suggesting that we just walk our separate ways. Besides, she seems on edge and I’m not sure either of us trusts the other enough to turn our back to walk away. And I should get Onyx out of this downpour before he catches something.
Onyx stands stalk still a few feet behind Clovis, already drenched head to toe. He stares at the grass, paying close attention to their voices and the sound of the rain hitting the RV.
She has a shelter. It’d be a good idea to go ahead and get out of this rain. Is she wounded?
If Jax was in the safety of a home. He wouldn't need his weapons, right? His paranoia began to creep into his thoughts as he watched Cass put up his weapons. Isn't he going to try and hurt me? On the other hand, was always fighting these thoughts. *No, he has a child. He'd never do something like that. When Cass said it was fine for Jax to stay, Jax nodded. "I'm not going to." He muttered regarding the child. His blue eyes are sifting through the house, looking for anything unusual. He needed something that piqued his interest and made him suspicious. There was nothing to be seen. When Jax heard the child speak, he gave a small smile. He always tried to be warm towards children than to adults with whom he communicated to. Children were fragile, and he knew that from personal experience. Jax entered the house and began to investigate his surroundings. There was nothing unusual about it. It was comfortable for an apocalyptic home. Instead of investigating the living room, he went straight to the kitchen. To avoid dripping blood all over this man's wooden floors, Jax covered the gash as best he could.
He entered the kitchen and took a look around at the plain white walls and cherry wood cabinets. He shrugged his shoulders. It was better than any of the places he'd stayed in during his nine-years alone. He sat down after noticing the small wooden kitchen table, pulling out a chair. If Cass was still wary, Jax slung the bag over the chair and motioned for him to look in it. His hand was stained red as he exposed his left arm. He wore a leather jacket around his waist and had a few scars on his body. The ones on his clavicle and over his mouth are the most noticeable. There was nothing unusual about the wound in question; it was just a straight gash. The surrounding area was irritated and red, but it was not infected.
(Oh! Someone to interact with! Cool!)
Frenchie continued to make her way up until she found something. A few levels from the roof, there seemed to be a camp. For multiple people. Which meant there were other people here. She wasn't sure to laugh or cry. Frenchie hadn't seen another living soul in months, she honestly wasn't sure if there were any even left. But this was proof. Proof she wasn't alone.
And that was the scary part. She wasn't alone. And there were other people who she didn't know the intentions of. People always used to underestimate her when the world wasn't a living nightmare, what would they do now? Sure she could fight but being as small as she was, she could easily be overpowered.
(Slight graphic warning)
So for now, Frenchie hid. There was a decently sized closet in one corner that was unused that she decided to make her nest. If the people seemed friendly, she could come out. If not, she could wait until they were asleep, slit their throats with one of the knives she kept handy, then loot their stuff and bounce. Seemed like a good enough plan.
Jesse keeps her gun up and her finger still on the trigger, ready to shot.
What he was saying had an extremely high percentage of being true. Its not like she was purposely hidden and they found her. That'd be suspicious.
No. She was out in the open in a hoard of zombies.
She looks around him to see if anyone else was around him and that's when she notices the kid behind him standing still. He wasn't looking at anything other than the ground. What for? Was he not worried about the gun being pointed at the man he was with?
She's visibly confused by the child but she doesn't lower the gun. He could be holding him captive or something? Is the kid in some sort of trouble? Does he want her to shoot him? Is that maybe why he doesn't even look up at her?
"whos the kid?" she asks, her eyes going back to the large man. The kid kind of creeped her out and it was kind of obvious. What was his deal?
Cass looks up to the sky, looking at the dark rain clouds that were rolling in from a distance. He sighs, not wanting to do any of his chores in the rain. But after all of this he could relax by the window and listen to the rain. Maybe he could put out some jars or buckets to get some rain and filter it?
He mentally notes this as he closes the door behind the man. He watches him sit down on the chair and he cringes some more.
I'm gonna have to clean that too huh he thinks to himself before getting out a box from underneath the sink.
He sets it on the wooden table before looking at the bag. "mind if I put this aside?" he asks, his hand on it.
Inside of the box on the table was all of his first aid supplies. Some were homemade, some were found at stores he and Ophelia got lucky at.
He knew he was going to need to stitch that up but he didn't have any numbing medicine so Cass hoped this guy would be able to handle it.
Jax looked at Cass and watched as he got out the red box from under the sink. He felt bad for dripping blood all over the man's floors, but he had not control over it. "I could— clean up the mess for you." He offered, still surprised, he walked into a stranger's house. That meant he trusted him, and that was the worst thing you could do in the apocalypse. He shook his head, "I don't mind." He wanted the wound to be stitched up. He was in enough pain already. His adrenaline covered every other injury on his body. The ticking of a grandfather clock soothed him, and he relaxed his ridged muscles. Jax had really dark under eyes, and he looked sickly. Being out for too long had deaerated his body, and it needed repair. He closed his eyes as when he saw the stitching needled and no numbing medication. "Make it quick." He whispered, turning his head and tightening his jaw as the first stitch went in.
David’s footsteps are light and close to silent as they descend the stairs, but Ryder puts no effort into muffling his thumping steps. He slips the rest of his bread into his satchel, walking through a doorway and down a hall.
“The question is,” David starts without prompting, “what about fresh blood and organs is appealing to the zombies? What makes them lust for it?”
Ryder shrugs, “Maybe-“
“-I wonder,” he interrupts, “if you put a body that was a few days old out there, would they attack it? Is it only fresh bodies they’re after, or… is it something else?”
Ryder doesn’t answer this time, walking through a doorway into their makeshift camp setup. He sets his satchel down, picking up a black jar from beside his bedding. “I’m gonna go check on Vamp down there.” He states, not specifically talking to David since he knew he wasn’t answering.
David slips his computer underneath his bedding. “Are they lacking something we have? Besides, ah, the obvious? Hm…”
Ryder glances over to him, “I’ll be back.” He raises his voice a little to try to make sure he’d break through David’s thoughts.
David only nods, mumbling to himself still while drawing up something in a notebook.
-
Clovis glances over his shoulder for a split second before taking a few steps back to be closer in front of Onyx.
What the heck? Does she feel threatened by a small child?
“He’s with me.” He states, a little suspicious and hesitant to say much else about him.
Onyx furrows his brow, looking forward and past Jesse.
She probably has supplies. We could use ammunition or food, honestly.
Frenchie just watched from the crack in the door, shrinking back when she saw the two people come in. She listened silently, her gut turning at the ideas they were throwing around.
Are they seriously experimenters? Great, just my damn luck. Well, they don't seem all that threatening. I could probably take them down if they try to kill me and harvest my body.
For now, she just settled into her spot, prepared to hold her position until she could get a good enough idea of what they were really like or until they fell asleep.
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