Dominika had just scarcely finished scrounging ammunition and being a smartass when Zi spoke up to her. Azarov canted her head to the side, not quite sure how to take the comment but like most other things in life she let it roll off of her shoulders with a little shrug, a slight smile on her otherwise neutral face.<span style="color: blue"><b><i> “ I have already figured out how I am going to die, chuvak.”</i></b></span>She presses stress on the word chuvak, almost drawling it out as she goes on.<span style="color: blue"><b><i>“ At the wrong end of a gun. I’ve taken enough lives that way, figure it’s fitting.”</i></b></span>She shrugs her shoulders after she spills out just exactly how she thinks she’ll die. Dominika Azarov ‘fox’ caught on the wrong end of a gun. It couldn’t end any other way.<br/><br/>With her need to loot satisfied and her reply given to the other woman she walks back over to the table and picks up her file, opening it up and idly leafing through the pages and photos as Jeiyce talks and generally states the obvious. He was quite clearly worried and Dominika knew why, over her no doubt and likely jealous of Daniel at that and nothing had even begun to near happen. The thought made her snort as she looked at an old picture of herself when she was about sixteen years old, taken in public in a busy metro none the less where she was holding hands with none other than Jeiyce. Without a word she takes the photo and folds it up, placing it in her breast pocket next to the shotgun shells she’d collected before tossing the rest of her file in the flames. Dominika knew something would have to change if they made it through this, she couldn’t take how she felt about all of this.<br/><br/>Daniel had stood by the time she;d finished, greeting them all and looking each of them in the eyes. Fox looked fairly unimpressed for one, her face drawn slightly as she looks back at him with the eyes of a hardened killer.<span style="color: blue"><b><i> “ You did manage to get mine right. I just hope you’re right about standing a chance, personally. Those /things/ on the surface.”</i></b></span>The woman shakes her head  and looks disgusted for a moment as she hefted her double barreled shotgun back up to rest across her slender shoulders.<i><b><span style="color: blue"> “ They come in bigger packs then we do.</span></b></i>”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>