Liliana paused slightly as she entered ahead of Viktor, though obviously her face belied the hesitation in her step.<span style="font-style: italic">Warm</span>, came the first thought as she saw the interior of the Stalker warehouse. It wasn’t just the wooden paneling that lined the walls, and had nothing to do with the actual temperature (which<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>considerably warmer) but rather the air of… comraderie that radiated from every corner. Everyone knew everyone here. The harvesters had a similar aura, but the groups were always small, and most other places or groups were either too big or too wild to maintain a close-knit feeling. Things fell still very quickly, and she felt several sets of perceptive eyes fall to them. Her calf muscles tensed, instinctively preparing to propel her back out the door.<br/><br/>Fortunately, the tension fizzed out like a bulb the second Viktor showed his face, and the warehouse once more became a hive of companionable activity. Her muscles relaxed and she ran a quick gaze over the place, much in the same way she had speed-read the outside of the building, as she followed the rest of the group to his pad. Liliana paused very briefly as they passed a couple of Stalkers engrossed in a simple card game, her empty stare capturing the hand of both players. She suspected the one with the darker hair was losing. She had no idea what the game was, but he seemed like the type who would lose.<br/><br/>Viktor’s quarters were mostly what she would have expected from him; anything and everything to make, modify and maintain most (if not all) weapons and armor frequently seen in today’s world. The home-like, furniture touches were a bit less expected (she would have guessed a chair, at most), and without thinking she ran her fingertips over one of the faded posters, coming dangerously close to being lost in thought when Darren’s voice snapped her back.<br/><br/>Liliana gave her typical blank appraisal of the situation, then accepted the drop leg pouch from the raspy-voiced man, once more careful not to touch him or come any closer than she physically had to. She handled the straps and worn material in a way that made her confusion obvious, despite her lack of expression, but after unzipping her heavy coat and a few moments of fumbling she managed to get one around her lower waist and one around her right thigh. She thought the whole thing was a bit bulky for such a small gun, but the weight and rigidity of the sides made them seem intended for extra ammunition. The gawky woman pulled the little firearm from her pocket and placed it where it seemed to naturally fit, then buckled it closed. She felt unbalanced, uneven; it was different, and back when she had opinions, she may have disliked it. Didn’t care much now, though. Regardless of whether or not she unloaded the gun for some food or meds or other useful things, she decided to keep the holster.<br/><br/>She shifted her knapsack to the small of her back and stood close to the door, leaning one slim shoulder on the wall. The discontented shifting in her gut (worry, for other people) was attributed to those of their group that had stayed outside with the man and his big dogs, and Liliana toyed with the idea of ditching Viktor to check on them. She wasn’t in much of a hurry to walk back through the entrance alone, however.