It took Mattie a couple of silent moments to reply, and the flame from the burning body of Nicholas' mother had already vanished into a pile of lightly burning embers. When the woman finally did reply, she only said, "We're going to just have to take things one day at a time," with a sigh.

Nicholas knew an answer like that was coming from someone like her; even though he'd only just met her, he knew the type of person she was. It wasn't likely that she was going to use sweet, soft language just to make someone feel better unless they were having a complete meltdown. Nicholas may have been having a meltdown, but right now he didn't think it wise to show it. He was already a mess of awkwardness and cowardice. His internal mind and conscience damned itself for being so weak. So feeble.

"Yeah," he finally responded, turning once again to lie on his back. The melancholic apathy in his tone was almost tangible, and he was almost regretful that he'd been so...down. But how could he not be? He could hear his little sister whimpering in her sleep.

"There's a refuge camp somewhere," he sighed long and heavily. "My dad...I can't remember if he was trying to find it, or if he - I don't know. He told us to stay at home while he went out looking, I think for the camp, but I'm not sure. We- We never heard from him again. Then as I was moving mom and Alissa here, because there were lots of infected surrounding our neighborhood and people were either dying or leaving, I could have sword I saw him...eating someone. I didn't - I didn't stay. I hurried and got us here."

Even though he wasn't sad - actually, he was feeling pretty emotionally numb - a tear began to leak out of the corner of his eye as he stared upward. Shakily, he raised a hand and wiped it away. He wasn't sad. No, he was just...numb.

"What's your story?" he asked, voice breaking. He ignored it. It didn't matter.