After the End of the World [Solo & Virginia]

[Solo]

Was it really worth it to have someone watching his back twenty-four-seven if she talked so damn much? The silence of the world outside as the door to the cabin swung shut behind him was refreshing, and he took a moment to lean against the cabin's wall with his eyes closed, confident he'd hear anything coming before it managed to get anywhere near him, just enjoying the small bit of silence—the only one he would be likely to have the whole day, if how she yapped as soon as she woke up was any indication. Even in her sleep, it was like he'd been able to hear her thoughts, the constant chatter ringing in his ears even as the dissonance in her appearance made her look almost peaceful.​

​

Silas didn't know if it was because now he knew everything had changed, but everything sure seemed different. The normal far-off sounds of a car heading to one of the vacation homes up in the hills was nowhere to be found; even the birds had stopped singing, apparently scared to make a peep lest they attract the slow-moving dead. It was pure quiet, only offset by the muffled sounds of his new companion rustling around inside the cabin, hopefully preparing for their trek into town.​

​

Having a companion, in general, was something he'd never really expected, least of all one that acted like her. The only experience he'd had with women had been as he was growing up, but he never compared others to the people he knew back home on the compound. It wasn't as though he had any sort of model for normal behavior, and a television or something similar was unnecessary when he was focusing on making sure he had enough food and liquor to make it through the winter, so all he had to go off of in the way of human interaction were the few chats he had with vacationers here and there and the limited interaction with shopkeepers during his ventures into town. All of that added up didn't afford him the nuances needed to navigate even small talk with the capricious young woman rifling through his things.​

​

For the first time in a very long time, Silas felt nervous, and it had nothing to do with the flesh-eating creatures likely swarming the path from the cabin to town.​

​

After a time—both too long and not long enough, in his opinion—Ana descended the stairs to the ground, his clothes hanging comically off her small frame, though he did his best to stifle a chuckle lest he get another mouthful. He could hear it already—something, something, all you had, something, something, maybe if you dressed like a normal person, blah, blah. Imaginary Ana already gave him enough of a dressing down and he wasn't keen on another.​

​

"Baking soda. Truck's too loud, less risky if we walk. Gonna carry 'em. Annnnd I don't care if you go through my shit," he responded, ticking off each answer to each of her questions with his fingers. "Got everything all figured out? Great. Let's go." With as little conversation as possible, he slung the gun over his back—for emergencies only, he told himself—and clutched the handle of the knife in his fist, keeping it ready in case they ran into any trouble along the way, and started off down the path, not bothering to look behind to see if she'd follow. Whether she did or whether she didn't, the end goal was the same: get in, grab some stuff, get out.​

 

[Virginia Greene]

The chuckle was caught and Ana narrowed her eyes slightly. Her first instinct was to immediately externalize the indignation that flashed through her it hadn't gotten behavior-changing responses. So instead she shot him the wounded look that had always gone a long way to softening up her father when she'd wanted something from him and let out a purposely small "don't, I did my best," followed by a much more haughty and probably expected "but I suppose I had no reason to assume you knew how to act around a lady who wasn't her best. Or a lady at all." She knew she looked ridiculous, she felt ridiculous. But she was going to find a way to make this man feel bad about it because it was his clothes and because he had not actively helped during this part of the process and she resented that a little bit.

She scowled at him slightly but didn't disagree on the truck point because it was a good one - until they knew the state of things around them it was probably better to be able to move quietly back to the cabin. There hadn't been much issue on the road the way she had come from yesterday, but things could change and she thought they might be different going into town. Still. "I can't wait to see you carry that much food back by yourself." She muttered a quiet "dumbass", but it was particularly toothless. "Baking soda is better than nothing I guess. I assume you've never been to a dentist so you're probably not at the top of the list to die from mouth infection if it hasn't happened yet." Did baking soda have any other uses? She wasn't sure. Honestly, the petite brunette wasn't even sure what it was. She'd never used it before, never had to. Knew what it looked like, had seen a box that contained it, but neither bit of knowledge was going to be particularly helpful.

The sock-and-duct-tape combination she'd put together was certainly not comfortable, but it felt like it would protect the bottoms of her feet from the basics. It wasn't as protective as a pair of sneakers would be, but she was slightly pleased with herself for working it out even though she knew it looked stupid. Better than walking barefoot. The mental list of things that she would need was getting longer as she considered, and it became less and less possible to logically get it all out of the store in one go and so Ana was quiet for the first little while, mentally categorizing the things that she thought they would need and sorting them in her mind by level of importance.

"How many people live between here and town?" She wanted to know how many zombies might be milling around outside their homes but also how many homes they could take cover in if they needed to. They were always walking in the zombie shows and there was no way she was going to be able to do that, Ana was not the sort of person who could walk for hours on end. Not because she wasn't fit - she did a lot of cardio - but because she'd get gross and sweaty and then have to wash in a creek again and it was boring and she did not have shoes.

It was only during the consideration of how many homes they might come across that Ana finally made the connection that these were going to be people that this weird mountain man... knew? Had seen before, at least. He didn't come off as someone who socialized regularly but that didn't mean he didn't know them, and it should have occurred to her earlier honestly. She glanced up at him, and then away to look over the woods, and then back. "How long have you... I guess "lived" here, if you call it that?" Camped, maybe? The cabin was basically camping. She assumed, anyway.

Ana had never been camping, obviously. It was a weird, dirty activity and why would anyone do that for fun? People had already invented beds and showers, she didn't understand why someone would then opt to just... not use those for a while for fun.

 

[Solo]

The woods had never been so full of noise. Even during the summertime, when people flocked to their vacation homes and would throw parties that, of course, he declined invitations to, or even during the raging thunderstorms that visited at least three times per season, it felt quieter than it did with this woman next to him ranting on about how dumb she thought he was or whatever she was saying. The attention Silas gave her faded in and out, his ears tuning in at least enough to manage some sort of response that would make a basic amount of sense, but certainly not enough to repeat what she said verbatim. From the tidbits he got from his brief entertaining of her chatter, he wasn't missing much. Well, not much that would be helpful to their current situation, at least, unless the zombies really liked listening to her rag on him.

Was it really better than being alone? He didn't know, though he supposed it was nice having someone else there to see another vantage point. Not that he thought she was paying much attention to anything but the words coming out of her mouth, but at the very least, if she managed to notice a zombie coming towards them, he'd sure as hell hear about it. He might hear about it too late to do anything about it because it would be wrapped up in another mundane story about whatever richie-rich life the apocalypse had taken from her, but he'd hear about it.

He had pretty good reflexes anyway, he thought.

Crinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes as he thought, he crunched the numbers, most of the effort coming from remembering the structures rather than the people themselves. "Seven or eight houses, give or take. Some had families in 'em, I think, though most of 'em will be gone for the season already. Maybe twenty-odd?" It would be easier for him to note how many deer crossed the path leading up to his house in their morning rounds or how many cucumbers he'd need to trade for a fifth of whiskey, but he managed alright in the end. At the very least, it was enough information to satisfy her question.

The first one, at least.

A long pause followed her second question; this time, his silence was less pensive and more brooding, the subject souring his mood. "A while," was all he grunted out in response. "Long time. Longer than I can remember." It wasn't the whole truth-- flashes of his life before the little cabin in the woods ran through his memory, especially on nights where he found himself laying awake much further into the night than he should have-- but it was enough of the truth to give her. After all, they were strangers-- not a soul alive other than him and whatever remnants of his family were still roaming the earth knew his story, and he'd be content to keep it that way. The line wasn't continuing after him, so why did the story need to?

"You eat most stuff? Might be a few of 'em roaming about in town, and I want to know what we should be focusing on getting. If you tell me you're one of those weird people who only eats plants, you should probably reconsider." Changing the subject, he continued forging a path ahead of them, tampering down the thick brush with his boots and giving it a good stomp when he felt it wouldn't make too much noise to do so. The woman would be useless if the brush cut through the socks she'd managed to fashion into crude shoe-like coverings, and the last thing he needed was to sacrifice valuable strength that could be used to stock up on food-- or whiskey-- in order to carry her back. As much as he found her annoying and loud, he'd never be able to live with himself if he left her to fend for herself again.

Though he was confident she'd find some other sucker to con into doing all the dirty work for her, he'd accepted that that role was his for the foreseeable future. For a brief flash, being eaten alive by the undead didn't seem so bad-- but then the rational part of him returned and he just continued walking.

 

[Virginia Greene]

"...I hope they're gone." She hadn't meant to sound almost sad as she said it because she wanted her only consideration to be about the fact that was seven or eight houses worth of supplies they could use and possible places to stay if they were nicer than the shack he called a home, but she was also casually concerned over the mental health of her new companion. She'd only had to put down a couple of zombies and she hadn't known them, and that had started out rough emotionally. And there'd been... well, the fact that every time she thought about it she started to feel nauseous and like she was barely hanging on to staying in her body by her fingertips was probably a good sign that she wasn't ready to think about that seriously.

"If they're zombies and you want me too... y'know. I will." It was the closest she would get to checking in with him about the situation. She wouldn't have known what to say, these kinds of feelings were pretty hard to deal with at the best of time, and she suspected that trying to get him to talk about how he felt about this would be a struggle that just absolutely wasn't worth it. Lord knew if he was even capable of verbalizing serious emotion or even identifying that he was feeling it, and she wasn't a therapist. But she would put down some zombified mountain hick if it would help.

It took her a moment to decide how to respond to that, because it was a weird answer. "That's a real 'forest cryptid'-y thing to say," she responded casually when he said how long he'd been living there in a way that made it sound like it was like, two or three hundred years or something. Maybe it had been a family shack, but the idea of even a single parent and child living together in that tiny thing seemed ridiculous and she couldn't imagine it. "Mostly I wanted to know if you were close to anyone we should check in on or whatever." She wanted to gauge to what degree this big, tall, strong man she was hoping would deal with all of the hard stuff was going to need her to deal with hard things.

"I'm not vegan, no. At this point I'm just considering how to balance the need for food that lasts a long time with the fact that we should still try and be low sodium because I'm not about to die of too much salt in my diet when there's zombies to die from instead." If she noticed that he was taking active steps to make her travel easier she didn't mention it, and honestly didn't even consider that it was something worth noticing or appreciating. He should make things easier for her, he was the one with the boots after all. Plus this was his stupid forest or whatever. "We're going to need a lot of cans. And rice. And.... that electrolyte drink or packets of it if they do that. You know, the blue one." The sports one.

A branch snapped and it wasn't Silas that snapped it, and for a moment Ana froze. She wasn't sure if it was the right response or not, but it was definitely one to try and when a zombie didn't immediately lunge out from behind a tree she relaxed a little but took a tiny step closer to Silas, encroaching on a distance that she was pretty sure had been set more by him than by her. The fact that she couldn't immediately tell exactly which direction it had come from and how far away it was stressed her out, and she did find herself glancing over at Silas just to see if he had more knowledge of why the woods were making noises than she did. She was absolutely not a fan, and the faster they were somewhere that she would be able to see if anything was coming, the better. Sure that meant that things could see her too but that was better than the idea that something could be watching her without her knowledge.

Anastasia liked attention, but not like that.

 

[Solo]

Whether he had entered a state of shock, operating purely on survival instinct, or if he was truly unbothered, it wasn't immediately clear to him nor her nor anyone that would come across them. One foot in front of the other had always been his constant mantra, and that hadn't changed just because the dead had suddenly started rising from the grave. The concept of the rapture had been drilled into him at a young age, and though all his idle effort went towards forgetting every moment of his upbringing, some of the brainwashing never really left. There wasn't time to sit around and think, though, not when he needed to get shoes on this girl's feet and more food than he had in the cabin in their stomachs. Living as rough as he did, there was always something to be done, something much more productive than sitting and being alone with his thoughts.

Though, he supposed, the amount of talking the woman did was enough to keep him from ever being able to dwell on anything in his head again.

"What, and break a nail?" Silas responded, the closest thing to a joke that had come out of his mouth since she'd met him. It was unpracticed and a little aggressive in tone, but it was still clear that he wasn't entirely being mean, so it qualified. "I've got it." A short pause followed the assertive statement. "Thanks, though."

A joke and an attempt at being nice? Maybe he really was losing his mind. Back to the task at hand.

Nodding, Silas only partially absorbed what she was saying, a list being formed in the back of his mind, but whether he'd check it or not once they got to the store, that was anyone's guess. Soon, though, the sound of a branch snapping made his head swivel in the opposite direction, one hand held up as though to pause her if she was still speaking. She wasn't, though, just as silent as he was, and he watched her instinctively move closer to him, though her bare feet made no noise on the forest floor. For that, he was grateful—at least she didn't seem to be completely useless in a dangerous situation.

Motioning silently to her, he held up one finger, his head jolting in the direction of the sound. Another footfall hadn't followed the first one, but he couldn't be sure until he was sure—there was no guessing game when it came to survival. Nose turning up in the air, Silas closed his eyes for a moment to heighten his hearing, shoulders relaxing when the quiet bray of a buck rang through the silence of the forest.

"Deer," he commented quietly. "If there's one, there's more. When I get you back behind four walls I'll go out hunting, see if I can't find 'em. If not, the traps might get 'em." It wasn't worth leaving her there, unable to run or fend for herself, just to risk pursuing the animal. Besides, he didn't have his bow on him, and risking shooting the gun when he didn't know what attracted the dead men walking wasn't the best idea, and though he was socially dense, he wasn't stupid.

"Let's keep going. We're almost there."​

 

[Virginia Greene]

Whatever it was, Ana was equal parts annoyed and comforted. It was nice that he seemed focused and sure of himself, but also she felt like he didn't fully comprehend what was going on. Which one was more important though? As long as he listened to her, it was probably ok if he was focused and calm and unaware of just how absolutely everything had gone to hell. She could be the big picture person here.

She held out her hands to inspect her nails, axe tucked under her arm, and let out a snort. She was down to five of the pink false nails she'd had applied barely a day before the party, which was not helpful and possibly also worse at this point than having all of them. The real nails that were exposed were short, rough thanks to the glue that was still on them, dirty thanks to the apocalypse, and the skin around some of them had been a little torn thanks to her bad habit of chewing on it when she was particularly stressed.

That was probably an even worse habit now that zombie blood was something she needed to factor in and not just the intense disdain and shaming from her mother. "Add nail polish remover to the list." This would be the first time she'd ever removed her own fake nails, that was what people used, right? Nail glue had to be similar to nail polish.

Had it been anything but a full on apocalypse, Ana probably would have at minimum rolled her eyes at Silas for using hand gestures to try and signal things to her that she already knew. But eye contact for an efficient eyeroll would have required not frantically scanning the area around them, and that took up pretty much every piece of mental energy she had until he spoke. Her shoulders relaxed visibly when he spoke blinking hard once like that would reset the stress of the situation entirely. "Take me with you so I can learn," she said firmly, voice still quiet after the tense silence. Ana had no real interest in hunting or any of the things you had to do after you finished the hunting part, but she also didn't want to die and hunting was probably an important part of that. She couldn't rely on one stupid mountain man to keep her safe forever, even if it was easier to let him do as much as possible.

And make no mistake, she was going to try and make him do as much as possible.

"I thought we'd have to walk longer." Was he less isolated than she'd first assumed? That was going to be good for them in terms of stocking up on supplies, not so good for avoiding zombies. But her feet already hurt, socks and tape weren't a good substitute for shoes even if they were serving the purpose she had intended. They were wet though, and that was immediately dreadful.

"What do-- did you do? Like, for work," she clarified a moment later, just immediately assuming that he wasn't going to understand that she meant job and was probably going to just describe the things he did during the day. If she knew, she could factor it into the best way to get him to do stuff and also what stuff he was going to be good at doing. She was pretty sure his job was 'mountain man', but he had to get food money somehow, right? Family and significant other didn't seem as pressing, he lived in a one room cabin in the woods without running water she was pretty sure she knew what the answer to those questions would be.

 

[Solo]

This girl. The bossy demands continued, and Silas felt a headache brewing behind his eyes, furrowing his brow in frustration. Who did she think she was to just show up on his doorstep and start commanding him like she was some kind of... leader? It had been longer than he could remember since he'd experienced behavior like that, and while he couldn't say he liked it, he figured they had bigger problems to worry about. Besides, getting in a loud argument would only result in more of the undead swarming on their location, and that was certainly to be avoided at all costs. Just because the sound of her voice was starting to dig into his craw didn't mean he wanted to see her torn apart in front of him. That'd be reserved for when she actually made him angry — and even then, he didn't think he'd cause it purposefully.

Maybe.

"You? Hunting?" The idea was so incredulous that he allowed himself a stifled chuckle, though he held his breath to cut himself off from outright laughing. The forest was so silent he'd managed to hear a deer walking — at least, when she wasn't berating him or trying to make small talk — so him outwardly guffawing would likely have the same effect as an argument, and would admittedly be much less familiar or pleasant to him. "Sure. We'll set you up with a bow and arrow and watch you take down the whole forest. 'S that easy, right?"

Was that... sarcasm? Not that he hadn't cracked a few jokes already, but it was more than he thought he'd made in the last year; normally, his interactions were limited to brief trades at the general store and telling wayward hikers to get off his property. There wasn't an ounce of friendliness in either, and while the first could certainly be considered polite, it wasn't exactly developed enough to count as socialization. So, when he found himself not only joking at her, but joking with her? That was new.

But then again, he supposed the earth being overrun with undead creatures was new, too, so it wouldn't be the most ground-breaking thing that had happened that day.

"Yeah," he responded simply. "Store we're going to is mainly for the cabins. Got a lot less than they do in town, but I'd rather stick closer to home until we can't anymore." We. Sure, he was assuming, but what was she going to do, looking like that? It was obvious she'd never had to fend for herself a day in her life, and while her company was irritating as all hell, he'd never forgive himself if he shoved her out the door and left her on her own. If she wanted to branch off and leave, she was more than welcome to and he was pretty sure his attitude had made that clear, but he wasn't going to force her out. "No nail polish remover, though. Grain alcohol might work?"

"Odd jobs, mostly. If one of them other cabins caused any problems, I'd show up and let 'em know to cool it so the sheriff didn't have to come all the way back there from town. In the winter I keep the roads clear. Trade with the shopkeeper in the down time." Did she really need to know all of this? No, so why was he telling her? He questioned himself silently, immediately clamming up to any further conversation. Turning back from the occasional look at her, he kept his eyes focused on the path ahead of them, not saying another word until a small shack-like structure came into view.

A dilapidated sign, half the wooden letters affixed to the front either torn off or worn away by years of disrepair, marked the General Store — or, more accurately, "Gnl St-e" as it now read — though one would assume it was a joke if the state of the building was any indication. One window had been partially broken, one pane clear and one with jagged, blood-tinted glass, and as he touched the door handle, it was clear it was unlocked.

"Stay here," he muttered, making sure she was behind him before he slowly pushed the door open, ears alert for anything amiss inside. Immediately, he heard heavy breathing coming from behind the counter, and without thinking, he shut the front door behind him and moved toward it. Before he could round the familiar edge, a figure lurched towards him, though clumsily so. "Fuck," he yelled, reflexively plunging the large knife into the temple of the creature, throwing it off the blade to the floor with one quick motion. When it didn't stir, he stood over it, gripping the counter as he caught his breath.

"Aw, now that's a shame. I kind of liked him," Silas spoke aloud before he swung the door open to Ana, wiping a bit of blood on his pants. "Not mine. Don't worry."​

 

[Virginia Greene]

"I didn't say it was easy or that I could already do it, I asked to learn," she snipped back, immediately back to what was quickly becoming the normal amount of irritated hostility. She would have assumed he'd jump at the chance to not have to do absolutely everything for her, and also possibly get a (bit of a) free pass to criticize her. Instead, as far as she was concerned, he'd blown it.

Why would somewhere sell alcohol for drinking but not the things necessary for a women to keep herself looking nice? Rural life must be terrible. "I'll give it a shot." What was the worst that could happen? If it didn't work it didn't work, she could pry her fake nails off if she had to as uncomfortable as it would probably be. His logic for the cabin store made sense, but it didn't sound like the sort of place where she'd be able to get all the things she currently needed. So maybe cabin store and then somebody's cabin or something. Maybe they could find something with electricity and a bathtub and stay there instead. Fantasizing about a hot bath and a place to stay with more than one single room was enough to keep her from following up on anything he said about his work, and then they settled into what felt like a decently comfortable silence.

As comfortable as it could be when any noise from the woods could be flesh eating monsters, anyway.

The broken, bloody glass caused a little pause in her, and she stared at it for a moment in what was almost disappointment. Though she had assumed that at minimum the whole state was probably overrun there had been a moment during their reasonably peaceful walk in which Ana had considered that maybe this was far enough out that things would be normal. "Stay--?" She was preparing to argue but Silas was already on his way in and she wasn't entirely sure her sock solution would stand up to broken glass so she wouldn’t be able to give her full attention to any dangers lurking behind shelves. Reluctantly she leaned against the wall near the door, not entirely opposed to giving her body a little bit of a break. Though she hadn't complained about it, her muscles were sore from the day before and it was nice not have to put her whole weight on her legs. It was impossible to relax though, not when she was out in the open like this and couldn't see her idiot of a companion.

When he yelled she was upright in an instant, a wave of nausea hitting her so hard she almost ended up leaning back where she had been before. It wasn't anxiety, not exactly, it was thought that this might just be how it went - she met men and they were stupid and brave and then they did something to try and protect her and they died and then she was alone again. She would be left with another dead body she would have to leave behind because she couldn't--

He opened the door, and whatever that feeling was - it was entirely too large and new for her to bother trying to sort out - immediately shifted into irritation as though it was entirely his fault. "I didn't ask," was the brusque response as she leaned around him to look inside of the store, though the word had pretty firm quotations marks around it in her head. Though it had previously annoyed her, for the moment she found some sort of comfort in the fact that thus far her companion had showed all the emotional attunement of a rock. They could squabble and move on and she wouldn't have to think about feelings.

"Does it always look like this," other than the dead body, "or has it already fallen into post-apocalyptic disarray?" She had never been in a store this small that sold things under five hundred dollars. "Do they have shoes?" Probably not.

 

[Solo]

Silas knew better than to expect over-the-top adoration for, in his view, saving her from the unpleasantness of having to deal with the carnage throughout the store, but at the very least, he thought maybe he'd get a thank you. He'd gotten one out of her so far, so he didn't think another was out of the question — but maybe he was wrong, and one was all he was going to get.

Still, he didn't do anything he did for recognition, and in fact preferred that people didn't place any kind of attention on him. This kind of lying low had always worked well for him, but in this new world, he thought it might benefit him even more than before if that was possible. After all, avoiding drawing attention to oneself when the only thing to give said attention were flesh-eating monsters was probably a good thing.

Following her in through the half-busted door, he remained turned half-sideways, attempting to always keep each window in the structure in his view. From what he'd seen so far, the creatures weren't exactly stealthy, but there wasn't any reason to believe that they were all the same. This kind of thing hadn't ever been thought of as possible outside of the most fringe of beliefs — Silas had once had the displeasure of being roped into a conversation with a conspiracy theorist while in line at that very store, having to restrain himself from tossing the man down the front steps when he started trying to rally Silas to the cause, the source of which remained ambiguous.

"Maybe hiking boots, check along the north wall," Silas responded to her, motioning towards the area as though it wasn't only a few feet away from them. "Might as well grab yourself some warmer clothes, too. Won't always be this nice out and the weather can change in the blink of an eye up here. I'd be surprised if we didn't catch a storm soon."

As he walked, not wanting to keep much distance between the two lest they be surprised again by another of the creatures, he pulled things off the shelf and settled them in his pack; a flask of whiskey, as much canned food as he could manage, a small whetstone… Eventually, he moved behind the counter, quickly busting the lock off of the ammunition cabinet and beginning to load up anything he could use, leaving behind the calibers that didn't match for other survivors. From what he had seen, the creatures didn't know how to use tools, so it wasn't like they'd be facing gun-toting zombies anytime soon.

There wasn't time to mourn the shopkeeper, there wasn't time to think about any of the others that may be in cabins nearby his, there wasn't time to think about the wider world — and there especially wasn't time for him to wonder if anyone from his past had survived. Even if they did, he doubted he'd recognize anyone; he hadn't been to the compound since he'd left decades ago, and they'd always made it clear that anyone that left wasn't welcome to come back.

Still, the idea of the tall, secure walls surrounding it was appealing to him; it couldn't be more than a week's walk or so from the cabin, and eventually, the small store wouldn't be able to sustain them…

Eventually, they'd have to come up with a future plan — something Silas had never excelled in — but he was as of yet unsure if that'd be a them thing or a him thing.​

 

[Virginia Greene]

"Ugh. Zombie storm." The possibility of having to stay cooped up in the cabin all day to avoid weather was an unappealing one, but so was the thought of being out in the pouring rain even without the added problem of the undead. "Loot a pack of cards." Ana assumed he would at least know how to play poker. She trailed along at first, keeping an eye out for things that she wanted or needed and occasionally reading the ingredients before wrinkling her nose and handing it to Silas anyway. She stopped at a can of SpaghettiOs, picking it up, turning it over, and then presenting it to him as though it were a find at all of note that he should take extra care in shoving into his bag. "I've never had these before. Wasn't allowed, as a kid." But she'd seen commercials. "I think we can both be glad this is turning into an adventure of new and unhealthy foods and not the discovery that if you take away the private shoppers and weekend chef I've got an eating disorder." Probably.

While he moved off to collect ammunition she found some things that seemed like they fit, and simply changed into them right there next to the rack they were on. They were living in cabin that was one room at best, this wasn't exactly a time to develop any amount of shyness about her body.

Plus, she currently judged Silas somewhere between Man and Log so there was nothing to worry about with him in that regard.

After buttoning up the plaid (plaid! God was dead and so was fashion) shirt she'd found, she looted herself several pairs of socks that boasted about being great for hiking and something about being good for sweat, both of which seemed useful for a zombie apocalypse. Then it as off to secure a pair of what had to be the ugliest boots she'd ever seen, but were also the only option available. They did immediately provide some admittedly much-needed support for her ankles and the cushioning made the bottoms of her feet hurt a little bit less, though she was likely going to have to wait for her skin to heal from her misadventures in the forest for that to full go away, which balanced out some of how they looked.

"What's the real, functional difference between waterproof and water resistant?" She asked from the coats, trying to decide between the three whole, all oversized, options. His answer didn't end up being super necessary because she took both, under the assumption that it was going to be better to have extra layers as opposed to not enough of them.

It was her turn behind the counter after that, face scrunching in disgust as she got a good look at the corpse on the floor, so that she could look through the cigarettes. Surely she could have a few vices in the first week of the apocalypse, as a treat.

As she turned back to ask Silas if he had a preferred brand she froze like a deer, wide eyes catching a shadow of movement out of the corner of the window across the store. She held perfectly still for a moment, and then shot Silas a quick glance and relaxed a little when it was didn't immediately turn into a zombie slamming into the glass. The flicker of movement could have been anything, really. A branch in the wind, a bird, some other nature bullshit she wasn't thinking of because she didn't really engage with the outdoors beyond the beach and curated gardens. "What else do we need?"

Being spooked made her a little less disagreeable, at least for the moment.