Calista's wide eyes looked from the girl in front of her, to the gun in her hand, to the bloody remains of the bird splattered across a tree trunk. She was too far away to smell it, but she could remember that smell. The smell of blood and death and destruction. It was forever seared into her brain. Once again, the stranger asked to go to with them. Calista managed a shaky refusal before fleeing back into the building. She wasn't involving herself with death any longer. She refused to allow that kind of benevolent violence back into her life once more.