Mira was still lying down, her head lays on half of a pillow. A big, valuable, and soft one that was stuffed with cotton, the other half of the pillow was used to hug it as well as to cover her face from some light, but she saw it. Mikena surely possessing something. It explains it all, the rummaging and how the bandage always seemed slightly tampered with. To Mira, it was easy to capture the trivial actions and come to a conclusion, like knowing the timing of a thief's crime that was done in broad daylight. But Mira did not think of any of the girls as a thief. She simply had no feelings towards the case - not like its important right now.<br/><br/>She thought to herself,<span style="font-style: italic">Yeah, food. Also, we should be on the look out for medical supplies, weapons, toiletries, and clothing. Aaaaand ...</span><br/><br/>Mira gave her pillow one final squeeze, burying her face and head into it and got up. She grabs, from her own bag from her corner of the room, and stands up and goes to the more spacious area, behind a wall to let her hair down to brush it. She ties the black bandana back on her head, and clears the brush of her own hair and goes back to the corner to place it back in the bag. "If any of you wanna use my hairbrush, then use it, alright?"<br/><br/>She then quickly puts on her long gloves, shoes and jacket. She then goes over to one of the supply boxes. She reaches behind them, pulling out a crowbar. She hits it lightly on her left palm.<span style="font-style: italic">... Zombies.</span>She mentions to the girls, "Hey, lemme check outside to scout for them zombies, alright?"<span style="font-style: italic">And for the food ...</span>Mira spoke in a whisper, "Mhmm, a ... good idea." She remembers what the books had said - something about how it is the common whereabouts where zombies can either not have inhabited it yet, or, that the place, really, is really likely to be filled with the undead. If it's where the average people go, then you are either greeted with the mourns of dozens of zombies, heartless gangs, paranoid groups, or the kinds who stab your back once you hit the hay, or the kinds who're actually sane<span style="font-style: italic">and</span>cooperative.<span style="font-style: italic">But hey, better than <span style="text-decoration: underline">doing</span> nothing. Being a sitting duck and all.</span><br/><br/>"Oh, and, er, good morning. To all of you." From her jacket pocket, she pulls out another bandanna - it was the same as the one she's wearing now on her head, black with floral prints. She ties two-thirds of her long hair with it, then places the hair into the back of her shirt. She zips up her jacket, securing her hair to stay in place. She then walks over the entrance area of the room. She lightly lifted a loose board with her finger from the window next to the door. Peering out, she saw no zombies. She goes to, and slowly opens, the door, making sure that there were absolutely no uninvited zombies standing on the doorstep. She goes out to a yard that was bordered with tall, black strong fences and thick bushes. She strolls a bit further, now being in the open with about a two meter radius of space.<span style="font-style: italic">Our group - all of us looking for a way to survive. And once one of us gets bitten ...</span><br/><br/>She pauses a bit.<span style="font-style: italic">I can perhaps test out one of those 'claimed cures.' Then again, if there <span style="text-decoration: underline">were</span> a cure, then some govern-ish related authority might already have some directions and answers to this. The cure would've been out by now.</span>She continues,<span style="font-style: italic">To test these claims, it could, really, just be a waste on limited supplies. <span style="text-decoration: underline">I guess I'll try to look more into this ... later, though</span></span>.