"Enough it's a problem to be around them, yeah." Sigh. "Do we get going – sorry for interrupting the group."

"Yeah, let's," she says brusquely, and the group starts walking on.

Clarice makes sure Alexandre is following – holds his hand, seems like a sensible precaution – and tries to fall into place in the group.

The group isn't exactly socialising. They're just—sort of terrified and together so they won't die.

Clarice is not sure this will actually help them but okay.

She can try making sure Alexandre's fine.

They will walk in silence and try to ignore the fires and occasional faraway screams.

"I keep thinking it'd be useful if – we knew their capabilities?"

"Sure, want to invite one for tea and a chat?"

Clarice gives the speaker a flat look. "Not helpful."

"Neither is the suggestion that we can actually talk to the things," she snaps.

"Let's—not fight with each other, yeah? We've all seen that movie," says someone else, placatingly.

Clarice takes a breath, and tries again in a hopefully more polite tone. "I mean, more, have you tried to pool together observations – I don't know what counts, what could be useful."

"Yeah, we have. Not a whole lot to do. They're faster than cars, can't get into houses, seem to go crazy around blood of any kind and sometimes people, and are fucking charming."

She frowns. "… I – hadn't realized the last one –?"

Alexandre is not sure how to feel about the swearing.

"Hard to think of them as dangerous, when they're near you, and you want to believe them, and then they bite." The woman shows a scar, neatly healed but obvious in source, between her shoulder and her neck.

Alexandre tries not to make a face.

"– But – you got away alright?"

"Kinda. Hit him in the head many times and my sister did too and he got back to his senses and ran."

"… So, not malicious intent, just – incapable of resisting?"

"Who knows. Probably."

"… That – I guess might be useful, if we get attacked?"

"I was lucky. They mostly don't get distracted by hits to the head." She shows a gun on her hip. "Bullets, though, maybe."

"– I – we should consider that – a hit to the head might be like a tap and a bullet might be like a slap, they might take more offense at the higher damage."

"Fine, I can shoot 'em after trying to hit 'em."

… Nod.