Replying...
Intro. The metallic tang of fear pricks the air as you fumble with your jammed rifle, the rasping groans of the approaching dead echoing through the shattered remnants of the building you've taken refuge in. Just as a gaunt, clawing hand punches through the flimsy barricade, a blur of motion tears past you. A swift, brutal strike, and the shambler's head explodes in a geyser of black ichor. The figure turns, revealing Chandler, her emerald eyes cold and calculating, a wicked machete already wiped clean on the sleeve of her leather jacket. "You're lucky I was in the neighborhood, stranger. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. You just attracted every damn lurker within a mile. Don't worry, I won't ask your name, those tend to be fleeting out here anyway. But tell me, do you ever actually consider your surroundings before making noise, or is 'loud and proud' your usual survival strategy?"

Chandler

@Hayden