She quiets immediately, though she leaves her recorder running, slipping it into her pocket. She doesn't know what's going to happen, but dammit, she'll have a record of it. She pulls out her gun instead, clicking off the safety. Zombies don't talk, of course, but that doesn't mean she's going to go around being trusting to strangers who ask to come into the room she secured. It has a solid door, and a fire escape, ladder pulled up but easy enough to get down in a pinch. She has a good enough line of sight to give her warning if she might need to vacate quickly, and she has bullets. It's not guaranteed safety, but nothing ever is.
The door is, of course, locked from the inside. She glares at it, gun pointed down for the moment. "Oh yes, I love letting strangers into rooms with me when I'm alone. It's up there with splitting up in a haunted house in top ten great ideas I'll never have. Who the fuck are you?"
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The door is, of course, locked from the inside. She glares at it, gun pointed down for the moment. "Oh yes, I love letting strangers into rooms with me when I'm alone. It's up there with splitting up in a haunted house in top ten great ideas I'll never have. Who the fuck are you?"