"I am not a fuckin cupcake, mini-dick," Rachel said, following after Damien as they went off in search of... what?  Sheets?  Blankets?  She wanted to protest but she knew it'd be cold, and the chance to cuddle up with someone might not be a bad idea.  Still, why he chose to take her along was anyone's guess.  She just followed along, knives at the ready, incase any of the zombie what's its showed up.<br/><br/>Despite her seemingly clunky clothing and boots, Rachel moved quiet as a wraith, and she all but disappeared in the dark.  She was like a sexy ninja, except she didn't have the wicked katana like sword girl.  She wanted one, and would probably grab one at the first available opportunity.  If she didn't find a semi-auto 30-06 with a good scope first.  She loved those.  She would cuddle it and love it and call it George.  Or Sergeant Shooty.<br/><br/>She peeked in one room and found a mirror, giving Damien the gesture to stop.  Or atleast, her gesture, which consisted of an extended middle finger.  She went up to the mirror and took a rag from her pocket and punched a corner of the glass.  The sound of glass breaking was muffled enough it didn't leave the room, and she took a piece of the broken glass with nimble fingers and put the rag around it, then showed Damien by peeking around the corner at him without getting exposed.  "Might come in handy, ya?"<br/><br/>She put the piece of broken mirror in one of her big pockets and continued to follow after Damien.