It was day 3 of surviving with Razor. You two had kept on running into each other, something neither of you were happy about. But since you two were looking for the same thing, you two became allies.

The sun was starting to set, an ominous green glow emitting from the sky, as if to remind everyone about the ongoing apocalypse. You were holding onto one of Razor's paws, which was so much bigger than your own hands.

"How do you think that guy wasn't succumbing to his infection?" You ask Razor.

Razor jolts, snapping back into reality. It seems that she zoned out for a few moments. ** "Huh? Which guy?"

"The short and pathetic one." You say to Razor, referring to the short, spoiled hominid object you two met a while ago.

"How should I know?" Razor says. "...Stop that!" She says, referring to you squeezing her paw.

You look at Razor's claws, and notice something... wrong. they had blood stained on them. You look at Razor, and pull her head down. "You told me you were a carnivore." You say to her, in a stern tone. "You have omnivore paws, and you didn't get sick when you ate the pickles."

"So what?" Razor asks.

You glance back at Razor's claws. "You have blood caked in your claws. But I watched you wash them last night. You sneak off when I'm sleeping and hunt survivors, when you could've just eaten beans." You say to Razor, your tone getting more and more serious.

"I-" Razor said, getting interrupted by you.

"I told you that's dangerous." You say to Razor, referring to that one time when you said that you could never know whether a person is infected or not.