[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=DC143C]Thalia Carmichael[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/e4117d5f-65c8-4b8e-98df-5810a59267c5.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=crimson]Location:[/color][/b] In The Truck
[b][color=DC143C]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][hr][/center]

	Thalia looked at the MRE and knife in her hands. She turned her eyes to Thana, carefully mulling over what she had just said about already getting a meal that day. As it turned out, she had also had a meal that day, too. Not unlike whatever lay inside of this prepackaged, camouflaged, plastic-covered container of textured, non-perishable to semi-perishable foodstuffs. She even got a hot cup of coffee out of the whole deal, be it the dehydrated instant kind. That's just what it was like, living out of a piece of frightening WWII combat machinery with a mildly unstable Kiwi named Lola. Between her knack of hoarding supplies in a more or less secure, mobile fortress, combined with Thalia's abilities as a survivalist and scavenger, they were doing pretty good on the road, just the two of them. Lean but stable times, as reliable of security as could be realistically expected... and a gnawing feeling just hit her that she was never going to see her friend again. 

	She settled into a more serious look and mechanically fished the book of matches and pack of crackers out of the MRE. The matches found their way into her pocket (different one from the last book of matches she appropriated earlier that morning), and she fished out a packet of peanut butter for herself. The rest she handed back to Alexander with the noncommittal words of [color=DC143C]"Bon appetit, Mugsy."[/color] It wasn't that she wasn't hungry, [i]persay[/i]; She was technically always hungry. But like Thana mentioned about herself, Thalia had already had a little something that day, and all of her own supplies were back on that tank. She didn't know what all was in this truck, nor did she know how long this little detour was going to last. So far as she knew, Alexander was the only one who hadn't gotten a bite all day. 

	The memory of the first time she saw a Zed crept up unbidden. It was back in Boston. She had passed out in her office, [i]again[/i], and had decided to take a jog up to a nearby bakery in hopes of getting that good, fresh stuff early in the morning. Three of them - and this was back before she knew what they were - went after a dog and then a garbage collector. Long story short, stealth and discretion got her back to her office safe with a big box of yummies. 

	[color=DC143C]"Damn, I miss that bakery..."[/color] she mused aloud, slipping on a pair of sunglasses.