<div class="floatright">(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1G10lPtszSo/U-iaeTXOudI/AAAAAAAAAjU/VIDCAig_Muk/w259-h194-no/index.jpg)</div><strong>Character</strong>: James Greene<br/><strong>Location/Time</strong>: Fisherman's Wharf, early afternoon<br/><strong>Attire</strong>: Running shoes, shorts, jersey, padding, duffelbag with the rest of his belongings (assortment of batteries and maglite).<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Gracie, Toffee<br/><br/>As the shambler was approaching him James carefully tried to make certain it's limited attention span was focused on his person, without letting it get too close for it to strike, grab or bite him. Usually after this; that is, as usual as this was; he would turn and run past it. Now he moved past it but stay to let his partner in this activity take her shot. Which she missed. But no worries, shamblers were slow and even on the field he was hard to pin down. So he lined it up for a second shot. Missed again.<br/><br/>"Shoot it already." he hissed under his breath, "I don't have all day." Of course, then she managed to hit it and not leave a very big impression in the dead one. And he lost it's attention, as it went toward it's attacker. Quickly he followed, up close to the zombie, using it as cover for any stray shots, ready to tackle should it get too close to his companion. She however finally took it down, with like her sixth arrow.<br/><br/>"That was fun." he said with a cheerful grin, even as he glanced at the big one coming their way. Her eagerness to leave was a bit of an annoyance, but he shrugged, keeping his smile on. "Your place it is then, beautiful." he said, still smiling, taking quick strides to the car and getting in.