Marc had strode to the center of the camp and silently watched Emilie douse the fire with a container of unpotable water the group kept for just that. He stood for a few moments, fuming at his brother and worrying about how he was going to get himself killed before finally kicking at one of the bits of moist, charred wood with a grunt as she walked away to do her business. Slowly, his gaze turned to the sky as he thought wistfully about feeling safe, thumbs looping into the belt loops of his fatigues. He wore his old uniform because it was sturdy, had lots of pockets, and... It had been in his rucksack when he'd grabbed it that first day and loaded it with food eaten long ago. The young man sighed and then looked around the camp, cocking an eyebrow as he watched Rena swing about the trees and then land... "Wish I'd learned to do shit like that before all this..." Then he spotted Andrew with the map and strode up and would have peered over the other man's shoulder if he weren't a measly 5"7'. Though he did speak up despite the fact Andrew had yelled for Earl. "What's the issue?"

Nick finished packing his bedroll and whatnot into the dufflebag he had for it, shotgun on his back as he held the bat leaned back on his shoulder. He grinned just a little bit and stretched his neck, looking around for something to do. After a few moments of debating, he reached down and picked up his duffle, carrying it with him as he moved over to Elise and Sarah, a grin painted across his face. He was convinced to the core that all of Elise's sourness was an act, and he was trying to make her drop it. Sarah was just... Well, she was sweet enough, but she'd not said much to him. "Good morning ladies," He began, looking at them both in turn. "And how'd you sleep?"