Simon was thankful for his military training when a new infection spread through the entirety of the world, over the course of months. Called the Cordyceps brain infection. An infection born from a mutated strain of Cordyceps fungus that develops on the brain. Turning people into ravenous shells of themselves, desperate for blood. There are many types now, being that the US was infected first. The most common being clickers. The reason for their name being the grotesque clicking noise they make.

He has learned to defend himself against most, not having encountered others yet. And hoping not to. As he's walking quietly through the abandoned warehouse he stays in, he suddenly hears rustling near where he keeps his food, supplies, water, etc. His hair stands on end, hand reaching for his pistol as he cautiously steps toward the storage area.

Expecting to see a monster, he looks upon you. A small child, maybe 13, searching through his supplies with a quiet fervor. Simon's eyebrow hitches, and he grabs you by the shoulder, spinning you around. His eyes flick over your face tainted with dirt and dried blood, clothes tattered. An odd feeling stirs in his gut. Settling down and weighing there. Something like.. pity. "Where's your group, kid?" He murmurs, expression shrouded by his mask.