He watched her strut around the place, his gun still resting carefully in his hand. He'd met people like her before, people who didn't care for order before all this, and loved the world as it was now, completley chaotic. She screamed of it practically, and that made him more watchful than anything else, they were always an unpredictable bunch.<br/><br/>He only eyed her as she introduced herself, lighting a cigarette as he spoke curtly, "Tyler, and I'm not interested in conversation."<br/><br/>He leaned back in his chair, his grip seeming to relax when in reality he was ready no matter what she did. He hadn't survived through hordes of infected, and rabid humans to start trusting her even the slightest just because she hadn't done anything yet. His attention had gone down for a person once, and he'd spent the few weeks after that nursing a wound that had almost been fatal if he hadn't reacted as quickly as he did.<br/><br/>He had been lucky in the sense that he'd noticed something between the immunes. Even being immune, being bitten or having direct contact like that with the infected, often had effects on those bitten or scratched. They were often faster, and better equipped to deal with hordes and other fighting scenrios. He'd had time to notice that as time went on, the more injuries a person received from the infected, often times the greater effect it had. Some who had been practically ravaged multiple times were at times inhuman when they got worked up. His previous injuries two years ago had brought on an increase of his reflexes and senses.<br/><br/>His gun snapped up at the sound of another person levelling on the person, "lovely, a new addition."