[ She's awake, sitting near the door because it'd been Jake's turn to keep watch tonight but he was tired and she wasn't, so she'd shooed him off and taken his place. This place is quiet, so quiet that they haven't been able to believe their luck, and so for once they've started to settle in. Fewer moves to throw the zombies and others off their scent, less focus on navigation and more on holding down the fort, protecting what they have, holding their ground, literally. And you know, maybe - maybe there's a reason they want to be findable, the same reason after six months that kept them pinning notes to rotting buildings and broken-down cars at one month, two, three, leaving behind boxes of precious resources after two and three and four, because if they can spare bits here and there maybe someone who needs them can find them. Find a way home eventually, where home isn't a place anymore but a group of people more precious than anything.
The knock startles her and a hand reaches for her gun before she remembers that wait, the undead sure as hell don't knock and there shouldn't be anyone else around who would. So she leaves it in her sylladex, pads her way to the door and opens it with a bemused look and without any of the hesitation she maybe should have. ]
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The knock startles her and a hand reaches for her gun before she remembers that wait, the undead sure as hell don't knock and there shouldn't be anyone else around who would. So she leaves it in her sylladex, pads her way to the door and opens it with a bemused look and without any of the hesitation she maybe should have. ]