[hr][hr][center][h1][color=DC143C]Dexter Sterling[/color][/h1][/center][hr][hr]
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[quote][right][indent][b]●   Location:[/b] Hoganville, Troup County
[b]●   Time:[/b] Morning-Afternoon
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     Dexter's breaths came in shallow rasps as he bolted up the stairs, his backpack swinging to and fro across his shoulders as it hung over only one arm. It made that familiar – oh how do you describe it – like a successive whoosh of fabric and buckles rocking with the sound of books and binders shifting around inside, the sound you were accustomed to when you were about to be late for class. That's what Dexter was reminded of.

[b]"[/b] [color=6ecff6][b]Jump the last stair![/b][/color] [b]"[/b] The voice was familiar, Jaime's. He had almost completely forgotten about the others even existing during his ensuing fear of being grabbed and mauled. Dexter wasn't sure what he meant, but as he came around the last part of the bend to the landing his foot nearly collided with the uppermost step. He tried to stop himself from tripping up, and barreled over the rug he almost caught himself up on.

Having just barely cleared Jaime's obstacle, he stumbled over the landing onto the second floor. Dexter took a brief moment to steady himself, once again straightening the backpack that listed lazily down his arm. He glanced around hurriedly to find his companions. It was when he stopped he realized how much he was shaking, looking down over his hands which refused to steady themselves. Was he bit? He didn't think so, but one couldn't help but worry. Oh God, he didn't want to die in this prissy southern doll house.

Dexter peeled his eyes up and away from his hands, seeing Jaime. He goes to say something, but decides against it. Seeing one of his companions gives him some sense of relief from the situation, calming him enough to regain his awareness. He wanted to ask where Richard was and if he was alright, but he didn't think there was time to – he would just have to assume Richard wasn't trying on outfits and taking his sweet time in one of the rooms on the second floor, and instead was somewhere secure.

     They had to move, it wouldn't take any longer for the walkers to get up to them. He broke for the other stairway down the hall without another thought. As he approached he began to take longer strides, opting to go two at a time again, focusing entirely on not tripping as he hurried up the steps . . .
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