Snippet #2450384

Yawning Dan stretched as his eyes opened to gaze at the boarded up window to the bedroom he was staying in and sighed as he closed his eyes and listened to the soft whispers about him, his hearing sharp and true before he opened his eyes again and sat up before standing and stretching again, grimacing as bones popped before he turned and headed out of the bedroom and into the living room of the apartment he was staying in. Seeing the sun was just shy of being noon high, and sighed as he turned and moved to the kitchen snagged a box of instant oatmeal and a bowl and spoon, and sat beside the propane stove he'd used last night.

After heating up the the water in the clean pan, he snagged two maple packets and opened them pouring them into the bowl and stiirred it tell it was thick and proceeded to eat as he popped the bones in his neck. After a bit he washed out the bowl with the remaining hot water, snagged his coat and katana and headed for the window. As he stepped out of the window and onto the fire escaped. Moving quickly he headed down the staircase and dropped to the closed dumpster than to the ground and slid his katana from the sheath strapped to his back and headed for the street the ally way, chuckling softly when he saw that no zombies stood or shuffled in the area and quickly made his way out of the dark ally way pausing to allow his eyes to adjust to the bright light of the day.

Minutes later he looked about and listened to the voices that have always spoke to him and looked to his left, his wistaria eyes locking on the form of a distant being that wasn't shuffling or stumbling and narrowed his eyes. "Survivor." he stated softly as he moved out onto the street, dodging grabbing arms and bodies that littered the ground as he followed the lone form ahead of him. He paused to look up at the street signs and grimaced when he saw that he was at Ash and Grant. "Fuck, he or she is heading right for the herd." he muttered and he stepped up his pace to a jog and gave out a sharp whistle, even as he took off the head of a scantly dressed chick, wrinkling his nose at the stench of decay that wafted from her, hoping that his whistle was loud enough for the survivor to hear.