James rolled his eyes at the woman. If she had wanted to shoot them she would have done so already, there was no point in even mentioning it at this point. Crossing his arms over his chest. What did she want? Nobody ever just offered help anymore unless there was something they wanted from it. He eyed the woman, trying to figure it out when he heard the other one, the one who had been stitching up the downed man's leg speaking about places they could go and use for cover, which was smart. It was the part about sticking together that was bothering him. James noted how she said she didn't want to be a prisoner<span style="font-style: italic">again</span>, filing that piece of information away for later if what he dreaded was coming true and the little band of survivors was going to be a team now.<br/><br/>James once more turned back to the redhead upon hearing that the rebels were hunting close to her home. Was this why she wanted their help? To defend her home? Heck, James had already been there, done that with the army, he was not in favour of doing it again.<br/><br/>"Seems kind of risky to me, joining up together." James said, arms still crossed. "Makes for a bigger target." Not to mention supplies would be spread a lot thinner, they would be slowed down, and James didn't exactly have the best impression of these people. He didn't say any of this out loud, but he didn't think he had to. When the sounds of branches snapping and underbrush being crushed under foot met his ears, James uncrossed his arms, adjusted his bag straps and turned to face the redhead.<br/><br/>"Guess we don't got much of a choice now do we Red?" His tone easily gave away his irritation with the whole idea.