It didn't take much to understand that at least one person in the group wasn't happy with her sudden presence. If they wanted her to go, supposing they didn't have enough space for her or something along those lines, she'd go. No need for inconveniencing people, especially if she'd be relatively fine on her own. She probably looked insane too, with a dusty red Yankees baseball cap, black military boots, camo pants and a gray sweater that had 'Let it Gogh' printed on it in painfully large letters. The bloody pipe she had against her shoulder didn't help either, she was sure. Nor did the hair pulled into a messy ponytail or the smear of mud along her cheek. But Rowena didn't make assumptions about their situation yet and knew better than to assume she'd be judged solely on her appearance, stopping a few feet in front of the man who'd addressed her and smiling in response to the question. "[color=9e0b0f]Oh no, mister. Just taking the dog for a walk, you see. Looking for something that isn't soup to eat, someone that doesn't want to eat me to talk to[/color]," Rowena said, her Scottish accent sharp. She eyed the man over before glancing at the rest of the people, then to the house they were by. Much more comfortable than the sewers, but not necessarily safer. "[color=9e0b0f]Is that where everyone's going to stay? That'd make us neighbors,[/color]" she said happily. Human company would be nice. "[color=9e0b0f]Anything I can help with?[/color]" Rowena felt it'd be rude of her to just barge into this little group and demand a place in it, but offering help wouldn't hurt, she was sure. In this mess not accepting a little help wouldn't be smart the woman thought as she shifted her weight, keeping a hand at the dog's neck.

[@Solace]