Feed // Private Roleplay with Crocs

Safira swore, grumbling something in rapid paced Spanish as she looked between the man on her floor and the door. "Fine. But you stay right where you fucking are, alright? Fucking idiot." She spun towards the door, keeping the gun on him best she could as she made her way towards it. Her hair was kept back from her face with a pair of chopsticks, indicating that she had been doing something when he showed up.

"I'm not the one leavin' doors unlocked during a horde," he pointed out, not moving from where he laid on the floor.
Damion studied her with his wide hazel eyes as she shut the door, attempting to get a read off of her. The only thing that he could tell is that he had interrupted an activity that couldn't allow her hair to get in the way, since it was pulled up with the chopsticks. The fact didn't help much, but all information is useful at some point.

(if I let this get bumped down to the second page you'd never respond to it again, imao)

((I hate how right you are abt that))

“I was grabbing my shit and getting to the roof.” Safira said, locking the door as quickly as she could. “Narrows down entry points, and the stairwell doors are the heaviest shit ever.” That was why she had chosen this building to crash in. She couldn't keep going in the state of hunger she had been in, and she’d gotten lucky with this building. Nonperishables in the basement and an accessible route to the roof?

"That explains the hair….alright." The sound of the glass finally breaking and 30 different pairs of feet stomping into the building made him frown. As long as they were relatively quiet and don't cut each other to bits, they should be good.
"It I ain't allowed off the ground, can you at least take my shit to defend us with?" he asked in a low voice, gesturing to the hatchet and gun at his hip. "They're jus' wastin' space without a proper use."

She made a face of slight confusion at the comment about her hair, the expression quickly fading as the glass broke. Flickering her eyes over to him, she narrowed them to study him, before motioning for him to stand. "Fine, get off your damn ass. But trust me, you try anything, and those fuckers out there are gonna be the least scary thing in this building." She hissed, motioning for him to follow her, steps so light they were near silent.

Damion got to his feet, his footsteps just as silent as he slipped the hatchet from his hip. The sound of moans and grunts were becoming louder and louder by the moment, making him concerned as to where the hell they were going. Obviously not the front door. Going to the roof would make them trapped. He just prayed to God she was heading to the back exit.