Smiling over Jake's shoulder, Dinah reaches her hand to Marcus in greeting, then to Kristie-- "My name's Dinah-- I'm from Springtown--"  and her accent seems to affirm that fact, subtly, but noticeably.  "You're the first people I've seen-- well, I mean, people," and for a moment there's a shadow in her eyes, like a cloud flitting over the sun, but she manages to dismiss it outright.  "I mean, Jesus Christ, I'm glad to see you--"<br/><br/>She notices Kristie and Jake's attention to the street behind her, and the paranoia she's come to accept as normalcy takes hold again and she turns with them to look.  "What is it?  Is there something there..?"  She half steps back into the room, lifting a well-cared-for shotgun to rest with the practiced certainty of one familiar to such things, though not the automatic military stance of the others.<br/><br/>Though her face is still smudged with road dust mingled with sweat, it doesn't take long to peg her... she's young, probably just out of high school or college, and her gear looks worn, high-quality but not professional.  She's pretty, but seems exhausted in more than physical ways.<br/><br/>After a few moments of silence that stands in awkward, desperate contrast to her prior exuberance, Dinah exhales sharply and tips her hat back to rest high on her head, a gesture of ease.  "I think it's okay-- are you guys here for supplies?  Or are you looking for survivors?"  she notes the uniforms, not immediately making the connection that they're mis-matched.  "Is there a camp, or an evacuation point?  I heard some things on the radio, but... I mean, that was a<i>long</i>time ago..."  she trails off, hoping for answers.