Footsteps behind her. Brown froze for an inch of a second before continuing down, step by step, trying to ignore the fact that she needed medical attention.<br/><br/>She paused again after the man finished speaking to catch her breath. She did not consider him for one moment to be friendly to her. After all, his words were laced with a thick French accent. Not something you would be expecting from any Armenian. It was Armenia against the world right now thus she paid him no heed. She continued down, her forehead covered in congealing blood. He did not state any conditions, thus she concluded this was probably some man who believed he became conqueror of London due to the Apocalypse.<br/><br/>She trudged on, she had to get to street level and find some sort of transport, without the adrenaline pumping through her veins the full pain from her wounds kicked in and there was no escaping the virus in this condition. She could feel her body tiring, as though her strength was seeping out of her and into the ground.<br/><br/>------<br/><br/>Isana had just scanned her card yet another time for yet another punch and was already winding up her fist when someone grabbed her from behind. Instinctively, she leaned forward and jerked her head back before twisting out of the grip. Once she saw who it was however, she gaped, "Oh shit! Are you okay?!" She checked if he had a bleeding nose.<br/><br/>She briefly recalled what he was trying to say right before she smacked him in the face, was he offering help to beat a game? But then where would the sense of achievement be in that?