[Two types of men make that remark. Someone made comfortable in following, and leaders who don't wish to give it away. Flint raises an eyebrow at it, but it's his only reaction as he brushes past the man and - boots squelching uncharitably in the mud - heads for one of the buildings on higher ground. It seems to be a school, by its exterior, and it's been closed down for the storm. Flint, however, doesn't seem to care. It's an empty building near enough to the crisis that he can keep an eye on it, and he's brought provisions enough to outlast it.
He heads first through the door and to the small corner of the gymnasium he's sequestered for himself. There's a heater running, and several of the gym's instruments pulled close and tarped over to give it the illusion of being a small room. All the knotwork, of course, is expertly done.]
no subject
He heads first through the door and to the small corner of the gymnasium he's sequestered for himself. There's a heater running, and several of the gym's instruments pulled close and tarped over to give it the illusion of being a small room. All the knotwork, of course, is expertly done.]
Hungry?