[Daryl holds up a hand, a silent command for... More silence. He narrows his eyes at the end of the hall- as if he can actually see shit- and after a moment, drops his hand.]
You smell that? Think we got one.
[He's keeping his voice low, but as soon as he speaks there's a low, wet, snuffling sound from somewhere down the hall. Hard to know where exactly it's coming from, though; fucking echo...] Could be more.
no subject
You smell that? Think we got one.
[He's keeping his voice low, but as soon as he speaks there's a low, wet, snuffling sound from somewhere down the hall. Hard to know where exactly it's coming from, though; fucking echo...] Could be more.
They're blockin' the damn stairs.