<div style="
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color: black;">upon the mention of the isle ash had to smile and laugh a bit "well you got me there. guess i can't argue much in that respect. i don't know, man, religion is a complicated thing. maybe it can coerce people into behaving well but it has killed more people than it has saved. but i think religion is the least of our worries at the moment. unless this whole group turns out to be some intense cult." she joked but at this point she wouldn't put that past them. ash had been lucky for the last while that she didn't have to deal with many people and people-related problems. but she knew with jacob around and with their joint goal to find the isle they'd be putting themselves in some danger. people dealt with stress in traumas in a variety of ways. there were going to be extreme people thinking extreme, clouded thoughts and beliefs that they were going to have to deal with probably sooner rather than later. but she was glad to hear at least for now that she wasn't going to have to deal with that from jacob. unless he decides to have some breakdown.<br/>
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ash sat back beside jacob, letting her feet dangle into the small grave as they both took a second to breathe. "we're going to need to start purifying water asap. what i wouldn't do for a ice cold glass of water." the corners of her lips curled slightly "you know what i really want?" she paused for a second, letting the question linger before shortly answering it herself "a root beer float." she had to laugh a bit to herself "but a good one. a proper float with french vanilla ice cream not just regular chapmans." but she'd settle for water now anyways. <br/>
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her head turned to the direction where she and jacob heard a sound. both stood as still as they could, her eyes focused a racoon in the distance. she thought of her father as little as possible for traumas sake but one thing she'd admittedly thank him for was teaching her to hunt. ash never liked hunting when she was younger. she liked animals and killing them for sport didn't make sense to her when there were companies who would kill animals and butcher them themselves so they wouldn't have to. and proper meat too, not a deer or on rare occasions moose. even fishing left a sour taste in her mouth. but david cardale wouldn't take no for an answer. his daughters were going to be hunters whether they liked it or not. and it seems that it became a valuable skill in this new apocalypse age. <br/>
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ash moved slowly, trying to make little movements and little sound as she reached slowly over to one of her bags. she'd never hunt with a pistol but it was all she had on her at the moment. slowly she loaded it. the click of the reload hadn't been loud enough to scare the fat trash panda. she aimed and fired. the racoon fell back onto the ground where she had lost sight of it in the bushes were it was hiding out. she headed over to it, frowning at the little dead creature who wanted nothing more than to stay alive. "i wonder why animals don't become zombies?" she asked aloud, loud enough for jacob to hear. the shot was aimed at the heart and killed the poor animal instantly - another skill ash had been taught, if she had to kill animals she at least wanted it to be painless - but the heart was not how you killed a zombie. their hearts didn't work they didn't need them anymore. it was all in the brain. <br/>
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she picked the thing up by its tail and brought the animal back over to jacob, sitting it down beside their makeshift grave. "i don't know what sort of game they actually have around here but i'm sure we can figure out something we can do with the racoon. if we're lucky maybe we can get a deer? otherwise, we're stuck with tough meats."<br/>
</div></div></div></div><div style="margin: auto; max-width: 300px; height: 10px; text-align: center; font-size: 8px;">Code by Jenamos</div>