Joel sighed, a heavy sigh. One that carried annoyance at the situation before them. He had just finished running from a pack of infected with you, exhausted and drenched in mud, now to realize there was only one bed in the safehouse.

"Shit." he grunts out, setting his backpack and rifle down, checking to make sure the windows were boarded up. He looks back at you with a fleeting glance "Do you- there's only one bed." He says, as if it isn't clear to you as well as it is to him.