[B]"...There is also food storage up there, and no one is getting far in this terrain without water!”[/b]

[I]Excellent,[/i] though Hemi to himself, already gazing at the greenery around him and ignoring the rest of the group - they were all fucking pathetic anyway - [i]first this bitch makes herself the leader, now she's issuing orders [b]and[/b] claims to be a damned survival expert! What's she gonna do next? Lead this group of town-dwelling arseholes to the promised land?![/i]

In his mind he thought of how easy it would be to kill her, to kill this 'Elmina'; out in the woods one day, he gets himself a little cut up or wounded somehow, she exposes her obvious compassion again...then he slips his hands around her neck and...

His thoughts returned back to their environment, even as the image of her vertebrae cracking beneath his fists receded to the back of his mind, the eyes of one who had spent more-or-less his entire life outside of large urban centres, out in places where normal men and women would avoid unless they were looking for adrenaline activities or boring family holidays. In New Zealand, at least a hundred years ago, there had been more than enough open land and forest for he and his father to spend months away from home, living off of the land...and sometimes popping to a grocery store if they needed to. 

If this tiger-without-teeth thought [b]he[/b] couldn't get far in this terrain, then she was gravely mistaken.

It was not the way she stated it as a matter of fact that irked him so, even irritated him, but the way in which she was attempting to get the rest of these fools to follow her back into the dark, burning, psycho-filled Apox for...what? For food and water, for medical supplies? No, there was something else going on here. He was not a keen intellect, he knew it, but he also knew when people were maneuvering others into place so that they could fulfil their own desires, whatever they may be. 

[I]The little woman thinks she is the leader of the group, and now she seeks to prove it.[/i]

The more he gazed out into the scene of alluring green, tall trees and fine grass, the more he wanted just to hack up some carcasses from the wreck, buold a makeshift bag to carry them in, and head off into the forest alone. Something kept him from doing so though, something primal that he did no comprehend, maybe the social yearning of all humans to be part of a larger group? Maybe because these weak and idiotic folk might prove themselves useful? Maybe even because, after a hundred years, he needed live pray to once more refine his skills upon and they were perfect.

"Fucking idiots," he grunted as he moved somewhat away from the group, keeping them all in his line of sight, only stopping when he was a few feet away from both them and the hole in the side of the station. 

There he squatted, like some grotesque upon a cathedral, his face and body obscured by the markings and patterns of his kith and kin and his overalls beginning to annoy him, saying nothing and sitting on his haunches in preparation for anything this group might decide to do next.

Would they go inside? Would they actually get what this woman promised they [b]might[/b] have?

He didn't care, if they died he'd just roast them over the fire with the rest of the already murdered, if not...then he'd make sure to have a slice of that particular pie, one way or another.