Putting on a brave face was hard when people insisted on doing things that would drive her mad any normal day. The group was indecisive. The group still harboured that typical 'girls should be stuck inside!' mentality. The group was suddenly swapping clothes and killing zombies. It was all off-putting, making Heather feel rather uneasy. A lot like how Dante was.<br/><br/>The idea of killing zombies and wearing their guts for the sake of discretion was a baffling. It was untested. It made sense to some degree, but for the most part it was simply speculation. Heather would sooner trust in her feet than smelling like absolute shit, feeling like absolute shit, and walking around town like you have to take a shit. She was also not living up to being a leader, either, so perhaps she really had no other choice but to trust in these people's ideas.<br/><br/>Frustrated with herself, with this group, with the zombies outside, Heather just shut herself off. The young girl closed her eyes in hopes of not catching what was going to happen to the zombie. She wanted to plug her ears to stop hearing the heavy, laboured, basically sick breathing of Dante, too. She wanted some miracle to happen where all these fucking zombies just vanished!