[center][color=FFFB83][h1]Krisana Herrera[/h1][/color][/center]

Krisana sat on the table of the booth she occupied throughout the week. Her legs were crossed, her hands on her knees, earbuds in her ears playing calming music in Spanish from her iPod. She'd taken up meditating to keep it together and there was no better time to do it when she now had the time to waste. Her tongue salivated from her sweet craving and she was minutes away from freaking out about her mother possibly being dead, but she tried to meditate it all away. She had her moment when she couldn't reach her mother at the start of the pandemic. She boarded up the shop, then followed the small group here. Honey Sugar was a few shops down the road and would be an easy trip to get her poison, but she wouldn't go alone and she couldn't ask anyone else to make a suicide run with her for sweets. That'd be a stupid thing to die for. She's settled for drinking tea with a lot of sugar in to satisfy that need for fruity flavors. 

"Morning everyone." She called out. Around her, her pandemic companions got ready for breakfast. Pots and pans clung together from the kitchen, the scent of coffee was strong, and her stomach growled. Yeah she needed to eat. The radio crackled from the counter top. Another morning run of a supposed safe haven near Maumee River. She doesn't know much about radios, but she's sure it's a repeated recording. The voice doesn't fluctuate when the person speaks. It's said the exact same way it has been for the last few days. If the recording is scheduled, then there's a chance they're nothing waiting for them if they leave. 

Krisana climbed down from the table and sat in a stool at the counter in front of Karen after the broadcast. "Are we going to attempt to leave today? The longer we wait the more chance there's nothing waiting for us a the camp."