Ethan was passing a mere quarter mile away when he caught a glimpse of a wall through the treeline, "settlers?" he was dangerously low on food and fresh water, but had morphine to trade, looted it from an abandoned ambulance two towns back. The young former soldier knew that some survivors were jumpy and trigger happy, getting shot was not on his to do list today either. He approached the edge of the treeline and waved his assault rifle in the air with one hand "Oye! Any chance I could take a rest with ye guys?!" he shouted with his thick accent trying to get the guards attention without startling anyone. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder he raises his hands above his head and starts down the abandoned road.<br/><br/>Approaching the gates he speaks in a friendly enough tone, "I have medicine to trade for a couple days food and shelter. Feel like imma catch me death of a cold out here." His read beard was unkempt as he'd been traveling for a week or two now, "I mean no harm to you er ye people, have me word." He wasn't aware but he was speaking to Henry, Ethan's uniform had seen better days though his countries flag still securely stitched to the right shoulder. He remained still at least ten paces from the gates hands clearly visible above his head, shivers run across his skin as the young man prays silently for aid.