[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4z7loNm_kw]Wiping the blood and brains[/url] from his blade on one of the fallen abominations as well, Elijah moved to follow the woman down the corridor back to the shelter. While she headed into the bunk room, the man remained just outside the door, as if awaiting permission to enter this time; he folded his pocket knife and sheathed it on his belt. As he did so, he brushed back his trench coat to reveal a foot-long blue and white braided cord hanging from his waist. More than likely only one person in the room would recognize it.

The woman spoke of heading out to a chop-shop, piquing his interest. However, unless she was in a hurry, Elijah wanted to introduce himself. 

"I'm sorry for any misunderstanding earlier," he said with a slightly higher pitch in his voice than the average male. Though he spoke in a subdued manner, his voice carried a little more than normal as well. "My name is Elijah. I'm sure I could be useful if I could join your group." 

Elijah glanced between them all nervously, discerning that the decision would not be down to one person, but the group as a whole. He assumed that even if they had a leader, their process was more akin to a democracy or republic than a monarchy. However, his eyes nearly stopped on the dark-haired woman in her early twenties. Having spent some time abroad in the military, as well as extensive research on the Hebrew culture, Elijah recognized her middle-eastern ethnicity. But his natural anxiety around new people (especially females) made him quickly look away. In a couple seconds he deduced she was not Iraqi simply because he spent a lot of time with them and knew what to look for in their facial structure. Inhaling deeply, and giving the others a thin, bearded smile, Elijah wondered if she was in fact Hebrew as well, but by birth. 

His eyes returned to the latina who looked ready to leave - eyes that almost pleaded with her to vouch for him.