"No good lines of sight that low in places like this," Paul surmises, frowning a little as he waits for Daryl to step inside before he trails after, knife at the ready. Hot and stuffy and dusty enough to make Paul sneeze once, making a face. That aside though it's fine - when Daryl whistles Paul doesn't hear anything but he moves to take stock of the rooms nonetheless, picking through the rest of the space. He's privately glad for the mostly-open floor plan because it means less work for them.

The cursory search reveals nothing and Paul moves to open the windows to try and get some air. "Must not have been home," he murmurs, thoughtful. Then it's time to look through for supplies and he heads to the pantry first, wondering what shelf-stable goods there would be - and smiles lopsidedly, crouching a moment before tossing a bottle of water underhand behind him toward Daryl, expecting him to catch it. "Two full cases down here. All of the bottles are still sealed."

They're gonna taste like plastic, but hey - good water is hard to come by.