[I]It’s here… plenty of things have died here… but how is there still no food?[/i]

Marie had trawled through the large predator enclosures one by one, searching for food. The only clothes she had on her was a thick, matted [and now from scaling broken wired fences, rather quite torn and tattered] Russian style trenchcoat that she picked up in a dumpster outside a thrift store. It was a good find at the time when the cold Canadian winds blew through the night, but here in the blazing American Summer it was just more of a burden. But she had nothing to replace it with for now.
Marie was about to absent mindedly venture out into the forest looking for something, before a local stopped her in her tracks, and warned her about the dangers beyond the city walls. Disappointed, she turned around and followed the next concentrated scent of death that she could find – it was old, but still fairly strong, and apparently the scent led her straight to a zoo.

[I]Yeah… this one… this one’s recent. Small bird? Large bird? Who cares, food is food.[/I] 

She followed the scent of a fresh kill, but only to find a bloody concrete wall and a black cat sitting in front of it. It looked like none of the meat from the dead bird was left. “Are you kidding me?” Marie mused half to herself. She gathered what was left of the crow feathers into her palm then heaved herself up on the wall behind the cat, spieling off another monologue half to herself.

“It’s a little rude to just eat for yourself, and then not leave anything for guests, Mr.Kitty” Marie said, nibbling on a few feathers at a time. “Keep up this behaviour, and I’ll eat you as well. Don’t think I haven’t eaten cats before…”