[h1][color=ed1c24][center]Astrid Ashbourne[/center][/color][/h1]

Her eyes never wavered from the woman even as she lowered her gun. The stranger's other hand went to the dog at her side which seemed to be watching Astrid with the same glare she kept on the woman. Even if she didn't have the gun the dog could probably rip her throat out before she got anywhere. Following her motion Astrid walked backwards to her clothes. Not once did she let her eyes leave the woman. Even when she was putting on her shirt she bunched it up specially so that as it slipt over her head it covered her vision the least.

When she had put her clothes back on and was warm once again she crouched as if trying her shoes. With her eyes still locked her arm slowly reached behind the side of the boat for her lacrosse stick. It might not hold off a bullet, but she would feel a lot more comfortable with it in her hands, especially with that dog. Feeling the tape of the stick in her grasp she stood up suddenly, clutching the thing in front of her with both hands. Her knuckles turned white under her grips pressure, and once again her eyes steeled over daring something to happen.

Then all of a sudden the woman apologized and stepped back. She even put her hands in the air. Astrid listened to what she had to say about how their paths had crossed, but didn't move a muscle. Her heart was thudding loudly in her ear despite her saying she was friendly. When she was done talking she stood there and stared at the her for a long while. Several minutes came and went before Astrid finally croaked out a sentence, [color=ed1c24]"What's your name?"[/color] Her voice was stale and broken from lack of use. She hadn't talked to a soul since the outbreak. Most people didn't want to talk anyway.
[@The Kraken]