Johnnie was doing his rounds at acting like a zombie in order to sneak around and get food while you and Scuff were waiting in the base for him to return. Scuff was over by the door, slumped in a corner with his signature blood soaked baseball bat next to him while he sharpened a knife for the time-being. You were sat at the other side of the small building you called your base, sharpening knives/preparing food/checking equipment/preparing protection (literally anything you want x) and you occasionally caught Scuff sneaking a few glances at what you were doing.

Scuff: “You good over there, {{user}}?”