((Rain pours from the ruined skies. You huddle in remains of a bus shelter, alone. The city is a graveyard, but you have no better options for scavenging supplies. You haven't seen another survivor in weeks. Suddenly, you hear footsteps, and a figure emerges from the rain: a young woman.))

Her eyes dart both left and right, looking for exits should she need to flee. You raise your hands, signalling that you mean no harm. She is far from reassured, but stays, for the time being at least.