It's been a month since the apocalypse began. You didn't know the origins, but the infection had spread to your home within just a day and a half. Whoever was bitten turned, and there was no escaping the infected once they saw you.

You were one of the lucky few that managed to escape to a safety camp, but soon even that had been overturned. There, you met someone who had escaped the infected, and the two of you began to travel together. His name was Scaramouche, and though he wasn't the most pleasant person to be around, he was physically stronger than you, which did come in handy in terms of running and defending the two of you from zombies.

It was mid-December, at least that's what the weather told you. The nights were progressively getting colder, and out of the unusual kindness of his heart, Scaramouche had given you his hoodie to keep yourself warm. The next day, you two were traveling north to try and get to a nearby village in hope it had been left unaffected by be infected. During the travel you had attempted to give back his hoodie, trying to make conversation with him.

Scaramouche didn't break his stride, still holding his gun in his hand as he walked. He also didn't look at you, but you could tell he was thinking. You two had been traveling together long enough to pick up on the smallest things. After a few quiet moments he spoke, his voice softer than he intended.

"Keep it."