Franka could tell that talking about her people made Hackett nervous. She did not comment, though, pretended to not notice it. It was understandable, the team had no more reason to expect 'friendly aborigines' than she had to trust these people invading her country. Plus, the last time anyone from the outside world had seen survivors was when they were still trying to evacuate people, in the middle of the craze, with most people as out of their minds as they were out of control, paranoid, panicking, shocked, drunk on violence and anarchy, some, and all fighting for their own survival with whatever means thy had or thought they had. Things had changed a lot, but how would anyone out there know? It wasn't as if the world had cared a straw about them, other than to make sure they couldn't possibly leave this hell and spread the infection.<br/><br/>She laughed, at Hackett's comment as much as because she found it hard to resist Hackett's laugh. Which was odd, as she usually didn't find anything in the company of strangers that would draw her out. Perhaps it was the excitement of these people coming form the outside world, the so-called civilisation? Franka made no sound, had not laughed aloud outside a safe place in may years. Her laugh didn't lose much of its charm to its voiceless nature, though, it was like an upgraded version of that carefree, slightly challenging grin Hackett had seen before, that echo of a once dominant side of her personality that had become dormant and rare over the years. "Nah." She shook her head, still grinning, eyes bright. "Whatever it is they want, it's something they can't get with bombs, they need people to fetch it. Else, they'd have already spread a brand new bomb carpet over us with loving hands."<br/><br/>Serious again, she tilted her head, peering at the antsy Hackett. "I've got an idea what it is they want, and why. That's the other reason I'm helping you. I'd not wish this..." - here, she gestured around - "...on my worst enemy. It's shite to be here, but it's a, well, somewhat threadbare consolation the rest of humankind still is business as usual."<br/><br/>When Hackett gave the order to move, she turned her back on the soldier without hesitation, and climbed the steep edge of the riverbed on the side opposite the direction they had come from. Finally, she managed to grab a promising root with her free hand, gave it a few tentative pulls, then swung herself up. Her legs flew up sideways, and she lay flat on her stomach on the ridge, peering out into the night without having caused more than a rustle of leaves a slight gush of wind might have caused. Silence. Fragrance of herbs, woods, dried leaves. Nearby, a sleepy blackbird chirped. Franka smiled, the sky was lighting up, half an our, and they'd be able to see almost properly. Well, her, too, the others could see well enough already. "Looks good up here, all quiet."