"Enough, Adrian!" Ruvim shouted, the low din of voices in the other room lowering to a momentary hush at his bellowing. Tensions were high, and Ruvim was no exception. Twenty people were living in this small store turned temporary shelter. Everyone was rubbing shoulders with everyone. There was no other option, unless people wanted to brave the elements and sleep in the dumpsters outside. On top of that, supplies were getting slim.

Ruvim schooled his expression and let out a long, deep breath before addressing the older man again. "I don't care if no one is happy," he reiterated, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. This room used to be a break room, a long, long time ago. Now it was the nomads' temporary war room. "There's a radiation storm coming, and those raiders are still on the prowl. We move, we lose people. We are staying put until it's safer."

A long pause followed, Adrian staring at Ruvim just as hard as Ruvim was staring at him, a silent battle of wills. Any more yelling would further agitate the other nomads, most of which were already in a sour state from hunger, exhaustion, and lack of personal space.