It doesn't matter how dry or thin that layer of blood happens to be, Katherine's nose is as sharp as any shark in a pool of water with a simple drop of it. She doesn't quite track it as that kind of predator would, but she does let it guide her as she navigates her way through the mansion at night. Sometimes sleep evades her, and sometimes she evades it.

Though she'd seen Clementine's message on the network, she hadn't replied. Katherine doesn't quite know how to — people don't often express to her that they're back, preferring to keep that hidden away out of fear of how she'll retaliate against them.

Besides, she's never quite had a friend to wait for the return of.

Turning a corner, Katherine sees the back of Clementine in the hallway. The blood's a lot richer there, and she can easily surmise it has to be coming from her. Strides long and heels purposefully clicking along the ground to announce her arrival, Katherine sidles up to her and reaches out to gently touch her fingers to the good shoulder of her jacket. Her primary concern isn't what she believes she can smell, ripe and possibly new. Katherine knows what it's like to walk around with open wounds.

Gently, she suggests, "Come with me."