Wilson was crawling through the suburbs of a town he did not know the name of, and didn't really care about it all too much. He approaches a large white house, and tries the door. It was unlocked. He slowly opens it, then silently enters. He keeps his knife in hand, keeping an eye and ear out for any walkers, or people for that matter. He slinks into the kitchen, and starts sulking around, quietly open and closing drawers and cupboards to look for anything of use. [i]Scissors, duct tape, a box of nails. Some painkillers and... Pregnancy control?[/i] He smirks a bit at the thought. [i]No need for those[/i] and he puts them back with a swift movement. He hears a clatter in the living room, and immiediately stops moving. He barely even breathed. He turned around very slowly, and observed a single walker. The amount of growls suggested more in the bedroom near by. He waited until the zombie was looking away, then sneaked over to it. He rises, again, silently. He grabs it by it's shoulder and slams his knife into the back of it's head, then slowly, carefully, lowers it's now motionless body to the ground, without a sound. He walks into the bedroom and stabs the walker there in the forehead before it can react. In the bathroom there was a pottery wheel and some clay, along with the tools needed. He took the clay slicer, which could easily be used as a choke-cord, and tucks it like most would a pistol for ease of access. He takes a few food items and a gallon of water that was in the fridge. After that, he starts walking out of the suburb. He was ready for another walk.