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</div>Usually, dogs liked Elias.  But clearly this one didn't.  But he'd always preferred beagles to big dogs like this one.  His sister loved big dogs, mainly because she liked watching them knock him to the ground.  His relationship with his sister had always been strained.<br/><br/>His hands were up as soon as the woman showed with her gun.  The reception was understandable, given the rather shady survivors he'd encountered along the way here.  There was a gun under the seat that he'd gotten off a dead sheriff along the way here, but he'd kept it there because he preferred the sword.<br/><br/>Elias reached for the door, eyeing the dog as he did so.  Apparently not fast enough for the dog's owner, but that was her problem.  His eyes were on the one with the gun.<br/><br/>"Dreadful sorry," Elias said as he stepped out of the Landrover.  "Was I wrong to think there was an open invitation to come to Havenshire? This is Havenshire, right?"  He only had a trace of his British accent, since his father was British, but his mother was American.  "Elias Esty at your service.  Professor of Geology and Archeology, though I don't imagine that matters a damn to you.  I'm good with a sword, have some carpentry skills, and have no problem with manual labor."  At this moment, he took a glance over his shoulder at the woods to see if any undead had taken notice of their gathering at the front gate.  So far, they hadn't.