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<div style="margin:auto; max-width: 450px; height: 50px; margin-top: 20px;border-top: 15px solid #980202; font-family: abril fatface; font-size: 45px; color: transparent; -webkit-text-stroke: 1px #980202; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px;">IDRIS BELLUCCI</div><div style="margin:auto; max-width: 450px; height: 450px; padding-left: 15px; padding-right: 15px; margin-top: 15px; overflow-y: auto; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 13px; color: #ccc; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify;"><br/>
<div style="margin: auto; margin-left: 20px; height: 160px; width: 160px; float: right; border-radius: 0%; background: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cc/9a/3e/cc9a3e0c3204523393c77eb404e1430f.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position: center center; filter:contrast(100%); filter:grayscale(0%);font-size: 0px;border: 1px double #980202;">image</div>It hadn't taken long to boil the eggs, though Idris had left to fetch more thinking that Arielle would be hungry when she returned from her run. She'd told Idris something about "marigolds" and needing them for their medicinal properties, though when it came to such things, one might as well have been speaking to Idris about rocket science or how the universe worked. She knew the basics, of course. How to tourniquet a severe wound, how to pack a wound with salt and keep fighting to live another day, how to sew up said cuts very roughly... In combat, one didn't need to be precise. One just needed to keep going, keep fighting, keep surviving... It had been sheer luck that her transmission had sent Arielle her way. Idris suffered wounds on a regular occasion it seemed, though with Arielle's extra pair of hands around to help, along with her experience in the medical field, things had been easier. Things would get easier. They had to. <br/>
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After the four eggs finished boiling, two eggs each for Arielle and Idris, she'd fished two strips of jerky out of the fridge. Thank the sweet Lord she'd found those fuel trucks at the steam plant, for the house was powered by a diesel generator and that generator had become a vital tool in her survival. It was quiet, purring gently in the distance. As she made a plate of two boiled eggs and a slice of deer jerky for both her and Arielle, she suddenly heard a series of cans clanking together, making that God awful racket at the gate. Someone had driven or walked across her makeshift alarm. <br/>
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Unknown to Elias, there was a wire that ran underneath the dirt at the gate's entrance. The cameras were just for looks, they didn't work, but the wire that ran under the soil led over the wall. Whenever pressure was applied, it would cause the wire to tighten and would jerk a series of cans she'd hung over the side of the wall. The cans themselves were on the Havenshire side of the wall, but the racket would be heard by all nonetheless... even the Walkers. Though she knew without a doubt that Arielle's petite frame was not enough to trigger the alarm. <br/>
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"Fuck." Idris hissed, jerking a Glock G17 out of the back of her combat pants. The Glock had been a gift from her best friend long ago, Thomas Kepler. Leaving the plates at the table, Idris bounded through the kitchen and out of the front door. She scaled the steps to the porch by simply jumping over them, hitting the ground running. As she made it to the gate, the structure swung open and she saw Arielle entering with Alabi. Rushing to the makeshift alarm, she jerked the cans off of the pole they were hanging from and allowed them to fall to the ground, no pressure pulling at them any longer so the rattling stopped. Stepping around the gate, she pulled her Glock and aimed it directly at the intruder's head through his windshield,  a man with honey brown hair and icy blue eyes. <br/>
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"You can stop right there." Idris called out to the man in the vehicle, her voice even, naturally husky, and sharp. She moved then, putting herself between Arielle, Alabi, and the intruder. As she aimed the gun she cocked it, a solid click resonating around them as she did so. Of course, Idris knew eventually someone would arrive. Or she had hoped. Arielle had, hadn't she? Yet Arielle had gotten the same greeting after Idris had dispatched the Walkers that were trying to swarm the girl and her canine. Despite her need to help others, there had been times where nearby survivor groups had tried to raid Idris and Havenshire of their goods. It would not happen again, not without a fight and blood spilled. Still, one could never be too sure. <br/>
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"Don't make any hasty movements. Slowly exit your vehicle and state your business here." Idris called to the man again, peering at him with hard chocolate eyes through the windshield of his car as she stood directly in the center of the gate. If he was of no harm, he'd get out and speak. If he meant harm, she'd shoot him dead before his foot ever hit the gas petal. Though he'd need to be quick... for the alarm she'd made of cans clanking together had surely caught the attention of any straggling Walkers nearby. <br/>
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