Heather turned around at the movement of another. She flinched as the other person seemed to have raised her weapon and was about to... kill her? Heather's heart raced for a moment before she realized the woman was just scared. Anyone would be, really. Heather wondered if the other girl thought she was a zombie or just a violent person. Probably the first option, Heather figured, since most of people's worries were about the undead. Even when they weren't around, zombies were always on everyone's mind in one way or another. Whether it was finding a way to survive or thinking about one's family, zombies did rule mankind's emotions now. There would be no turning back, but maybe, just maybe, mankind could recover. 

Heather dusted off some dirt from her jacket, and chuckled. "I guess I could be called crazy, judging by what I was just doing." she replied, and motioned to the plants behind her. "Just collecting samples. And yes, I believe so?" Heather tilted her head, as if trying to remember something. Her last sentence was rather uncertain. Heather shook her head, and sighed. She glanced at the University, and continued her story.

"Before the outbreak I was on the phone with my mother in France. She was the last one to talk to my sister, and my sister apparently said to come here. Not sure why, but here I am. I tried calling my sister, but she's not picking up, and I doubt she ever will." Heather explained, and put her hands on her hips. She had a habit of moving quite a lot when she spoke, gestures and all. When showing people things or talking about things she was passionate about or interested in, Heather often waved her arms and made gestures. She was told it was a 'European thing' but she shook it off, knowing full well that Americans did it, too.

Heather adjusted her backpack straps on her shoulders and then began to walk. "So, Aid Center, you say? Is that what it is? If it's a treatment place, like a little hospital, I'd like to help out. I have no injuries of my own, but I have treatments." Heather began talking again, and looked at the other girl, a big, proud smile on her face. When she talked about her work, Heather felt so very proud of herself; not because it was cool or anything, but because it worked. During times like these when the hospitals and stores have been raided out of medication, Heather knew where to find treatments in the most peculiar places. It was as if the cure was right under your nose the whole time. 

Heather stopped at the doors, and then clapped her hands once, something she did when she remembered something. "Oh, that's right... where are my manors? I'm Heather." she introduced herself, and held out a hand to shake. Even if the end of the world was nigh, Heather sure didn't forget about her manors. And even though the times were grim, Heather seemed oddly peppy... but it wouldn't last long. Not in these situations. Heather knew that, too, and she tried to keep her sadness away, but it didn't always work. Thinking about her sister and her family felt like knives in her heart. She had to let them go.

Pushing the door open, Heather walked inside, and paused. "Cafeteria, right?" Heather thought out loud, and then turned to the other woman for confirmation. Even if she was right, Heather didn't know the way. With an unsure look on her face, Heather looked back forwards and swallowed. The worried feeling of meeting new people set upon her. Who knew who was in there? Heather imagined some tough biker guys with guns and a bunch of people from the country who flocked here for safety. Perhaps there would be many city folk here, too, but Heather imagined they'd rather stay in their home in the city. Sighing, Heather imagined just how poorly that worked out for them.

Not liking to stay still, Heather slowly took a few steps forwards, and then continued to walk at an excruciatingly slow pace. Her mind was caught up on the other people, not on walking. In large group situations, Heather was quiet. Not out of shyness, no, but because she was analyzing the other people. Despite her joyful appearance sometimes, Heather was logical and observant. She'd be serious if she needed to be. Heather took orders from groups quite poorly, so she knew working directly in the middle of a group would just get her defensive and fired up for nothing. She knew that, yes, she'd always be the one who stayed out of the middle of things. It was best for everyone.

Heather sighed loudly, and clutched the straps of her backpack. "Do you have family here?" Heather asked, hoping her friend wouldn't be offended. Heather also hoped it didn't brink back bad memories. The more she thought about it, the more risky Heather realized the question was. She'd have to wait and see if there were any consequences of her words, and even though it might have been bad, Heather was willing to take the risk. After all, everyone suffered. Everyone lost someone, and if they didn't... well, they were one of the most fortunate people on the planet. 

Heather put a hand in her pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. She smiled a sad smile at the sight of such a simple luxury, and she popped a piece in her mouth. There were only five left after she took one. Heather then looked to the other woman, and held out the pack. "Would you care for some gum?" she said, in a hushed tone. She felt the need to be more silent in such a large, regal University.