Lazily eyeing the isles surrounding her, Mushroom shuffles through the empty convenience store, dust from the unswept floors kicking up as she does so. Her mouth curls into a slight frown as she reads the label of a bag of chips. Expiration date: March next year. Yikes. She continues to trail around the web-covered, uncleaned store. Nobody around to clean it during the apocalypse, after all.

Eventually, after a good ten minutes, she pushes past the clear glass double-doors, mildly dissapointed. She thought atleast some rotten meat would be lying in there for her. Maybe she'll have to eat something fresh. The thought makes her grimace.

Her pupils shrink in surprise as she hears a faint noise behind her, head cracking in the direction it came from. Her stark red eyes eventually land on you. She hums, relaxing once more, cocking her head curiously. It's surprising, but relieving in a way. Honestly, she thought the infected had wiped out everybody but her and Dynamite.

"..." A slight wave is all you get, back turning to you once more as she continues on her way back to her house.