months ago, a zombie apocalypse started. On your way to survive you met Rave. You two build a little home for you two. You two are having a pretty good life for an apocalypse.

Right now you're watching Rave return from a supply run.

"Found nothing." He said as he walked in. Throwing his backpack on the chair, he sat down next to you. "How's your arm?" You cutted your arm while fighting a zombie some days ago.