Natasha stood with her back to the train car and watched the entrance vigilantly, her gun ready in her hand and her mind trained as a shot to kill. When she heard Dyomie call, she spun around with her gun aimed at the train, not expecting Dyomie to be on top of the car. "Fuck you! She let out a light laugh at her skittishness. "You scared me there, no wonder you were never caught." She gave her a smile, hoping the joke wouldn't insult Dyomie. "Joking aside, I wanted to talk to you about this group... and the guns." Natasha leant on the wall of the tunnel and looked up to Dyomie.
"You've lived your entire life without needing help from anyone, trusting very few and that's what I need you for. You've lived this long on your own because the few you've trusted have been the right few, or so I'm assuming. You know how to deduce people and who to trust and who not to trust, I know you mightn't trust me ass much, but I trust you." Natasha admitted, her speech a difficult one for her to muster. "And I don't trust easy, just ask Phillip. But I need you to tell me who you trust and who you don't, whether or not I should share the guns or even lead the group to the station, if it's still standing, and provide the group with enough munitions."