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It was not uncommon to see the scattered remains of decomposing bodies across the roadways. Skulls and unidentifiable bones were frequent in buildings, roads, sidewalks... Once you'd found a house, there was bound to be a nearly complete skeleton still laying in the moldy mattresses of a once lively society. Occasionally, you'd find the saddening image of a child's skeleton, scattered across the road close to their supposed parent's skeleton. And, of course, you'd find the skeletons of all sorts of animals. Dogs, cats, horses. Frequently, these animal skeletons would have meat on them. The animals lasted longer than almost any humans did.

Animals continued to roam, breed, and die, even with the unfathomable conditions of the current world. Thus, it was not uncommon to find a non-decomposed animal body. However, it was uncommon to find a human body with any flesh left on it. If it was a human body, then it should be nothing more than a skeleton. This is a great factor as to why it was so incredibly unsettling for young Spere, who is rather used to seeing skeletons and remains of bodies and animals and overall was unfazed by death, to find a nearly non-decomposed, complete corpse of a human. On the floor of the small, once-been grocery store building, was a corpse. The corpse of a teen girl, no older than Spere, lying face down in a pool of her own blood on the dirty tile floor, unclothed.

Slowly, Spere rose a dark hand to her face, and covered her mouth, fighting back the urge to make any noise. As quietly as she had entered the building, she began to carefully, slowly step back outside, walking through the doorway that, at one point in time, had automatic sliding glass doors. Spere adjusted the heavy backpack on her shoulders, and then began walking down the empty city street, trying to comprehend what she had seen. She'd seen thousands of skeletons in her short life, but never had she seen a fresh body or thickly pooled blood.

She moved the black facemask down from her face, and vomited on the side of the road. The smell wasn't what bothered her; in fact, she hardly even had a sense of smell anymore, if any at all. Just the sight of the young, dead girl alone was enough to make her stomach churn. She would have to tell her group about this, she decided.

A murder. Spere'd never really used the word, and hoped it was the right word. But, from what she could tell, she had seen a murdered girl. Spere quietly moved her gator neck back up and over her nose, the way a surgical mask would. With so much ash in the grimy air, it was important to keep the mask on, even though breathing was like hell.

She wore three hoodies, layered on one another, but still, it wasn't enough to stop the painful cold from biting at her fingers. A light snow layered the ground, and she could just barely make out her small footprints. She shuffled her feet, hoping it would make her trail less noticeable, but if anything, it made her trail even more visible. She noticed a light trail of cat paw prints in the snow alongside her. She wondered where the cat had gone. The footprints faded as she walked.

It only took about twenty minutes of her fast-paced shuffle for her to find the nearly collapsed building that she called home. The cement structure was in better shape than most buildings on the block, but the roof was mostly non-existent and the paint had worn off decades ago. The entrance was an open doorway. Maybe at one point in time there had been a real door, but now, it was just a hole in the grey brick wall.

Spere stepped into the building quietly. She peered around the main room, and nearly jumped at a voice.

"Spere? Back so soon?" It was a quiet, muffled girl's voice. It was a woman, just a few years older than Spere. She walked into the main room from a dusty hallway, wearing layered clothes and a mask similar to that of Spere's. However, unlike Spere, this woman had blonde, wavy hair that was held up in an elegant pony-tail. Spere, on the other hand, had short-cut, messy black hair that was hidden underneath a grey beanie. She would cut it as close to her scalp as possible. To Spere, hair was just a nuisance. Especially since someone of her ethnicity was likely to have thick, frizzy, and uncontrollable hair. Not that she would know if hers was like this; she would never let it get long enough to tell.

"I've found something important, Fairytale. Let's have a meeting," Spere said plainly, trying to calm her nerves. She hoped no other living person had seen the dead girl. Except, she knew someone had. Whoever had killed her had.

"Okay... I'll go get the others." Fairytale seemed both worried and skeptical. She rushed off to a different room of the building. After a couple of moments, she returned, five people around the same age as Spere following closely behind her, while Spere waited anxiously in front of the doorway. Once the six kids had given her their attention, Spere began with her announcement.

"I found a body today. One with flesh, and skin, and blood."

A boy with thick brown hair, wearing a heavy, black gas mask growled, "What do you mean? Like someone who died after The Event?"

Spere snapped, "Do you think they'd have skin on them if they died before The Event?"

A different boy with rough blonde hair chuckled, "Listen to the lady, Mayhem!" Mayhem glared at the blonde boy. Spere placed her bag on the dirt floor and began to shuffle through it. She quickly pulled out a well-worn pocket knife, and clicked it open.

"I think it was a murder. Not a 20 minute gallop from here," Spere said. "We should prepare ourselves, and then go back to where I found the body and see if there are any clues."

"Go back to the body?" Fairytale asked skeptically.

"Yes. Maybe we can find out who did this," Spere explained.

The blonde-haired boy piped up, pulling down his mask for a moment, "What if they kill us, too? Who are these people, even? We haven't come across any other survivors."

Spere growled, "Stonehenge, I know just as much as you do. Maybe if you'd actually go on scavengings, you'd have seen for yourself, and could come to your own conclusions."

Stonehenge chuckled passive-aggressively, "Oh? But why should I scavenge when we've got such a disposable character like you?"

This time, it was a different, shorter girl who spoke up, "Stonehenge, do you ever do anything but complain?"

"Fine then, you take my place as guard, Dynamite, and we'll see just how fast you take that back! You'd be stolen and raped by a savage in a minute!"

Spere struggled not to raise her voice as she angrily said, "Guards don't even do anything! And the savages are just people, Stonehenge!"

"There's a reason we call them savages!" Stonehenge took a menacing step towards Spere, but she didn't back down. Mayhem took a step forward and removed his gas mask with a click.

Then he said, "All we do is argue. What's the plan? Let's figure this out, guys. We aren't infants anymore."

"You're wrong. Stonehenge is still an infant," Spere spat.

Stonehenge took yet another step closer to her, nearly nose to nose, "Oh yeah? You're just a savage with a backpack!"

"At least I'm not ashamed of where I came from!" Spere shoved Stonehenge, and he took a startled step backwards.

"Yeah, well you should be! I'd kill myself if I were related to a savage!" Stonehenge shot back. The small crowd watched intensely. The topic had always been sensitive for Spere. She had lived with the savages in her early years, until she'd met the rest of her pack, and decided it was time to leave. She knew that the savages were different- brutal, violent, and ruthless. But she also knew they looked out for each other, stuck close, and were loyal, the same as any kind human would. She felt a pang of pity, a pang of regret, remembering how she had left her mismatched family. She had not been loyal.

"Stop it! I'm sick of you guys fighting all the time!" This time, it was a younger boy who got between them. He was probably 10 or 11, and much shorter than the rest. Still, he stood between the two like he was their equal. And, they treated him as such.

"Get outta here, Half-Height!" The blonde boy shouted and waved his hands dramatically. Half-Height didn't move.

Spere snapped, "Oh, shut up, Stonehenge! Your yelling will get us located by those savages you hate so much!" Stonehenge grew quiet. Spere shot him one last glare before turning to look at the rest of the group. "So, what do you guys think? What are we going to do?" She crossed her arms over her chest. The small group of youth stood in silence for a few moments, thinking about the answer.

"I don't think we should do anything," Mayhem finally stated. "If we intervene with this, we could get hurt. Just like the person you found."

Fairytale piped up, "I agree with that." Dynamite and Half-Haight and another boy all nodded in agreement.

"That's it? You guys aren't the least bit curious about this? Who is that person, who killed them? If we are in danger, how to prepare??" Spere asked a bit desperately.

Stonehenge scoffed, "Nobody likes your ideas." Spere shot him another glare. If she was being honest with herself, though, she knew that Stonehenge was right about her. With every single thing he'd said. She was just a savage, walking into trouble like an infant. To her surprise, Stonehenge went on, "But, uh, I agree with you. I feel like we could be in danger and need to know more to be safe."

"Thank you!" Spere said half-sarcastically. "Nobody else?" The group remained awkwardly silent. Spere huffed, "Alright, fine. For all of us, I'm going to investigate. I might be gone for a few days."

"Wait, just like that?" Mayhem popped up. "You can't just leave." Spere slung her bag over her shoulder, then turned back to Mayhem, who had walked up closer to her.

"Just like that," she said. "But, I'm going to pack some things first. I just want to take one or two cans of food. Do we have any?"

Dynamite spoke up, "You're leaving at your own will. You shouldn't be entitled to our food." Fairytale turned away, but Half-Height nodded his agreement.

"Fair enough," Spere shrugged, although she thought that since she did most of the scavenging, she should be allowed to take a can of food with her. But she wasn't worried; she had two cans in her backpack she had scavenged and kept from the group. She wasn't really supposed to do that, but she did anyway, for emergencies. Like now.

"Wait." Mayhem walked closer to her, and handed her his clunky plastic gas mask, "Take this. I've got a normal mask in the back." Spere nodded her thanks, and took the mask in her hands.

"I'm going with you, by the way," Stonehenge said. Spere glanced at him skeptically.

"You sure about that, buddy?" She chuckled.

Stonehenge picked up his own bag, which was a bit smaller and lighter in color than Spere's, and said, "I'm sure."

Right before walking out the door, Spere turned back to look at her friends. She was about to leave them behind, it seemed. Only for two days, she told herself. That would be enough time to investigate. And, it wasn't far from here at all. She could return at any time if things went south.

She said, "Anyone else?" As predicted, nobody volunteered. Spere knew that nobody would, and gave the group a soft smile before turning away and walking out the doorway, Stonehenge by her side.

"Where did you find the body at?" Stonehenge asked as they walked. The snow underfoot had grown to be a few inches deep, and their feet sank satisfyingly into it. Spere, although used to the freezing cold, still shivered relentlessly. The snow was a grey-tan colour, as always. The snow never let up, and when it finally did, icy rain formed.

Her teeth chattered, "The grocery store closest to here."

Stonehenge asked, "Why don't you put on the gas mask? It will help your lungs be able to breathe. It will help warm you."

"You can wear it. Actually, you should wear it," she said.

Stonehenge raised an eyebrow, "You seem a lot colder than me. And you're always out here all day, running and scavenging and traveling, breathing in this ashy air. You need the protection more than me."

"Just shut up," Spere mumbled, though she couldn't deny he was right. "I was trying to be polite."

"Why are you so stubborn?" Stonehenge asked, exasperated. Then he blurted, "Oh my god, you're like an infant! An absolute child!"

"You're no better!" Spere spat back.

Stonehenge growled, "I'm just trying to help you! Why do you insist on hating me?"

Spere glared at him, "Pardon? You act like it isn't you who starts all these arguments in the first place!"

"Because it's not! You're just confrontational-"

"I know! I walk straight into conflict! I'm sorry!" Spere yelled. A sour silence followed.

The 20 minute walk seemed to drag on forever. By the time they reached the grocery store, the ground was entirely covered in fluffy, grey snow. Thankfully, the snow made the air cleaner and easier to breathe, pulling ash to the ground as it fell. The sky had begun to turn a faded orange. A sign of nightfall.

Spere stood in silence for a minute or two in front of the store, the snow chilling her to the bone. Just staring inside the empty doorway, at the body that was still on the floor, non-decomposing, and instead being preserved by the cold. She was surprised no animals had found it yet. The coyotes and wild dogs would find the corpse sooner or later, certainly. Stonehenge was the first one to begin walking into the store. Spere cautiously followed close behind.

He took a good look at the pale body on the floor before him. She lay in a pool of dried, black blood. Spere's eyes watered. The girl appeared to be the same age as her. She imagined what a horrific death she must've had. The dead woman had probably been raped, Spere realized. Or perhaps, her clothes had been taken as loot. With how cold it always was now, and how hard it was to stay warm, she figured the second option seemed more realistic. She was thankful it probably wasn't the first one.

Stonehenge leaned down to inspect the body. He gently and slowly flipped her over to reveal her front. She wore a necklace with a cross on it, and her hair covered her face. Spere squatted down over the body beside Stonehenge, and inspected the shimmery metal necklace. After a moment of hesitation, she gently unclipped it from the woman's neck, and put it around her own.

"You aren't religious," Stonehenge queried.

"No, but she was. I'll carry her faith for her," Spere said. The woman's face, hair, and breasts were drenched with dry blood, her once blonde hair a tangled and dirty mess. Spere didn't want to look at her any longer, and so stood up and began to walk through the store. She had scavenged this store a few times, but would return to look every now and then, just in case she missed something, or needed something she'd left behind before. Now, Spere didn't think she would ever be able to return, after having seen such a scene. She no longer felt safe here. Spere walked through the rows of mostly empty and dirty shelves aimlessly. She wasn't actually looking for anything, just clearing her head, really.

"Let's stay here for the night," Stonehenge said.

Spere turned around to face him, "Are you insane?? Someone was murdered here!"

"It's too dark to go anywhere else."

"Daytime doesn't limit us! We can walk in the dark!" Spere spat.

Stonehenge chuckled, "Only if you want frostbite."

"Frostbite or murder?" Spere weighed her hands as though they were a lever. "I chose... frostbite!"

"Good luck escaping from the murderer without any toes or fingers!" Stonehenge waggled his fingers in front of her face and laughed. Spere whacked his hands out of her sight.

"That's not funny!" She crossed her arms and turned away, beginning to walk down the aisles again.

"It's a little funny," Stonehenge muttered.

Spere scoffed, "Not even remotely." Only a moment of silent walking had passed when Spere stopped dead in her tracks. Stonehenge nearly bumped into her. A few feet in front of her, on the floor, was a used, dull kitchen knife, dipped in black, dry blood. Stonehenge pushed beside her to see what was up.

"Murder weapon?" He asked, putting a hand on Spere's shoulder. Spere took a step closer, and crouched down beside the knife.

She asked, "Did she have any stab wounds?"

"Not that I could see..."

"Then how did she die?" Spere asked again.

Stonehenge said, "That is an excellent question." Spere picked up the knife curiously, and handed it to Stonehenge with a look in her eye reading don't prank me with this. They walked through the shelves a bit longer, not seeing much.

Finally, Stonehenge asked, "Where are we sleeping?"

Spere responded, "There's a small storage room. It's not very big, but it's big enough for us two, and it stays warmer in there." Stonehenge nodded. The two made their way to the back of the store where, sure enough, there was a door that led to a room. The door's handle had been broken off, so it was a struggle to open, but once they got it open, it revealed a small, empty square room with a dirty tile floor. They shut the door behind them. Spere sat her bag down on the floor and unzipped it, pulling out a small throw blanket that she had. Stonehenge pulled out his own.

"We shouldn't lay both of these on the floor. We'll need one to cover up with," Spere said. Stonehenge agreed with a nod. He threw his on the floor, and sat down. Spere sat down beside him, shivering. After a moment, she said, "I wish the world was the way it was in books. Before The Event."

Stonehenge sighed, "Me, too. But then I wouldn't have this cool name."

"Uh, Stonehenge? That's the opposite of a cool name," Spere chuckled.

"Naw, naw, I'd be named something like 'Drake' or 'Alex'," Stonehenge laughed. Spere chuckled and pulled her gator neck mask down below her nose and mouth.

"And worse," Stonehenge continued, "I wouldn't have these bad boys if it weren't for having to fight for my life every day," He rolled up his shirt sleeves the best he could, and flexed his arm. At this, Spere began to laugh hysterically.

"Watch out," She said sarcastically, "Don't shoot someone with those guns!" Stonehenge laughed.

• • •

Spere laid beside Stonehenge in the darkness. One could say they were cuddling, the way one in a relationship would. But this was not uncommon; for as much as the two despised each other, with such a cold atmosphere, those who did not huddle beside each other as they slept would die. Frostbite ran rampant these days. Spere could hear the wind howling outside, and she prayed it would not storm. With storms came dirty water and diseases. Storms were infrequent, but detrimental all the same. It would be ungodly for a storm to arrive after such a dramatic occurrence had happened. A bad omen.

She shuffled her sleeping position, a hand resting on Stonehenge's chest. She wished for a better life, the kind of life that she had read about in books. Where people grew up sheltered, and fell in love, and married. Now, she couldn't even think about that. It was selfish to think of desires such as love. Now, you just had to keep walking, keep moving, until one day, you couldn't anymore. You would keep working for the group, and for yourself, until you died, alone and in a pool of your own blood like the girl just a room away from them.

Spere had nightmares that night. Of the dead girl. Who was she? Next time, it could be Spere. Next time, it would be Spere lying face down and naked on the dirty tile floor of a two-hundred year old grocery store. She would never get the life she wanted, and she would have to live with that. Survive with that.

She saw the faint cat footsteps in her dreams, as well. As though it meant something great. As though it was a sign, things would turn around soon. She began to find the gentle prints as a comfort. As if, if this cat can live and walk, then so can I.

When falling asleep, she clutched the silver cross of her necklace in her hand. She didn't really know anything about God. She enjoyed books, but had never read the Bible. But, if that poor soul could believe in him so dearly as to wear a necklace reminder of him to the very last breath, then Spere assumed that the least she could do is hope and pray. Wish for better days ahead. Pray for better days ahead. And hope for better days ahead. And maybe, God would fix things.

Spere was abruptly awoken the following morning by Stonehenge shaking her by her shoulders and aggressively chanting, "WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP"

"What? What??" Spere sat up and wiped her face with her sleeves, as though that would help wake her up. Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

"A dog! There's a dog out there!" Stonehenge seemed truly frightened, his voice shaky and high, and although Spere knew that in this day and age, dogs were no joke, she couldn't help but laugh. She got up, grabbed the bloodied knife they had found on the store floor yesterday, and began to stealthily tip-toe her way out of the room. She quietly creaked the door open. Stonehenge followed closely behind her as she walked out of the room. He practically breathed down the back of her shirt, and she rolled her eyes, although Stonehenge didn't see it.

Spere held her knife up defensively, maneuvering quietly through the empty aisles until she could peer at the dog. But, she didn't see a dog. She saw the corpse, pale as ever, but no dog.

"I don't see a dog..." Spere whispered. Stonehenge pushed past her to get a look.

"What the heck? It was right here," he spoke fearfully, his words sharp and close together.

They both jumped at the sound of a cry. A loud, solemn, feral cry. The pitiful cry of a dog in pain. Spere and Stonehenge followed the sound slowly to the other end of the store. They cautiously, but excitedly, rushed through every empty aisle, until finally, they came across a large feral dog, writhing on its side, scratching at the floor, yowling in pain, and foaming at the mouth.

"What's wrong with it?" Spere managed over the loud, echoing sound, her heart thudding in her chest in an adrenaline rush and panic and confusion. The dog convulsed profusely, spitting up blood and green-brown fluid and bubbly stomach acid, until its cries grew hoarse, and then dimmed to nothing, and it's writhing slowed to a stop. And lastly, the large dingo lay on the store floor, stiff and dead, in a pool of blood and froth.

That's when it clicked. Spere began to walk back to where the corpse was.

Stonehenge called after her, "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere away from you!" Spere hollered back.

"What? What did I do?" Stonehenge called again. He still had fear and panic lingering in his voice, and he trotted quickly, careful not to stray from Spere's side. Spere finally arrived at the pale corpse and crouched down beside her. Sure enough, there was a chunk of flesh missing from her leg, presumably from the dog. It was a grueling sight. Stonehenge crouched down beside Spere.

All Spere could manage to say was, "Poison..." Stonehenge reached out to touch the wound, and Spere smacked his hand away. "What did I just say?" She growled.

Stonehenge chuckled, "You looked off into the distance and dramatically said poison... You didn't say a thing about if I could touch it or not." Spere rolled her eyes. He smirked, "Aw, you smacked my hand away because you love me and don't want me to get hurt!"

Spere cast him a glare, "On second thought, I don't think it's poison. Touch it."

"You love me," he said. Spere growled beneath her breath. She definitely hated him.

"This is serious, Stonehenge! This proves that this was murder!"

Stonehenge shook his head and shrugged, "Or, what if she killed herself? Or what if she thought it was food? There are so many factors that could make this not murder." He said it as though it was obvious. Spere sighed angrily, but she knew that Stonehenge was right. They couldn't jump to possible wrong conclusions; it would lead them in the wrong direction.

"What do you suggest?" Spere asked.

Stonehenge shrugged, "If we boil it, do you think it would kill us to eat the dog?" Spere smacked him on the back of the head. He held his hands on the back of his head and whispered, "Ow. Ow. Ow." Although, Spere didn't think it was a bad idea. Animals were hard to come by, much less kill and hunt. Fresh meat was a rarity. Food itself was a rarity. But the poison issue made it risky. And personally, Spere wasn't too keen on eating a dog that had eaten a person.

"We aren't taking the risk," She said plainly. Stonehenge stood up from the body, and Spere followed.

He said, "Honestly, maybe we should drop it. There's no sign of anyone else here." Spere sighed. He was right. It was safer to just head back with the knife and their new information about the poison. An idea clicked in Spere's mind.

"Wait!" She piped up. "Let's find a way to collect some of the girl's or dog's blood. We should use it as a weapon, since it's poisonous."

"Not a bad idea..." Stonehenge thought for a moment, running a hand through his light hair. Then he said, "Oh wait, it is! It's an awful idea. How would we ever get someone, much less an enemy, to literally drink poison? Or eat something poisoned?"

Spere gave Stonehenge a look, "You asked to eat it."

Stonehenge chuckled, "Point made." A moment of silence passed. Finally, Spere sighed, looking down at the body.

"Yknow what? Let's just go back. There's nothing else for us here," she said.

Stonehenge moved his mask down and gave her a skeptical look, "Are you sure?"

Spere nodded slowly, "Yeah. I mean, what else can we do?"

Stonehenge shrugged, "Suppose you're right. We aren't collecting the poison?"

"Naw. There's no way to get it back safely," Spere decided. It wasn't as if they could risk touching it. And, they couldn't waste a water bottle for something like that. The store didn't likely have any test tubes and cotton swabs or any way to collect it, anyways. The two returned to the room that they had slept in to gather their things. Spere sat on the floor, her back against the cool wall, and pulled an old can of soup from her bag. "Hungry?" She chuckled.

"No way! How'd you get that past the gang?" Stonehenge laughed excitedly. It was rare to have such a good meal.

"I keep some of my scavenging items to myself," Spere said, winked, and then ripped the metal lid off of the can off with her pocket knife. She handed the cold can to Stonehenge, and despite the gelatin-like texture, he slurped some of it easily, and then handed it back to Spere. "I'm surprised it isn't frozen," she said, before taking her own sip of it.

"Where did you find such a good can?" Stonehenge asked, awe in his voice.

Spere tsked, "Ah, just when I was out lookin' around. Nowhere special."

Stonehenge grinned, "So you're a pretty good scavenger then, huh?"

"Yep. I'll bet I find 90% of our group's food," Spere spoke with pride.

Stonehenge chuckled, "Ok buddy," and gave Spere a sarcastic thumbs-up.

"Who are you to argue? It's not like you do any scavenging," Spere pointed out.

Stonehenge scoffed, "I don't have time for scavenging. I do much more important things."

Spere leaned forward slightly and asked skeptically, "Oh really? But you've got time to run away and solve a murder with me?" Stonehenge ran a hand through his hair again, nervously this time, and pulled his mask up over his face to hide his smirk. Spere finished, "That's what I thought." She handed the half-empty can of thick soup to Stonehenge. He pulled his mask back down and ate the rest of it thankfully. Anyone else would starve with one half-can of soup a day; but not them. They knew how to survive, but more than that, their bodies had adapted to the rather new environment. Less food was required to keep them functioning, which was a pretty handy new adaptation, as otherwise, they would starve. Not that they were very aware of it.

A moment of silence passed, and then Spere wondered aloud, "What do you think it was like before The Event?"

Stonehenge shot back, "What even was The Event? We talk about it all the time but we don't even hardly know what actually happened. Hell, we don't even know if anything even did happen; maybe the world was always this ashy, this grey, this cold."

"You make a good point," Spere admitted. She hadn't even thought that she'd heard and the books that she'd read could be fake. Then again, it always seemed highly unlikely for things such as internet to ever exist. How could society get so advanced in such a barren landscape? But, once again, she had also read that the world used to be full of life, and not grey and skeletal as it currently was. Perhaps they used to have more resources.

After a while, Spere got to her feet, and pulled her backpack over her shoulders. This time, she put the clunky plastic gas mask over her face. It was harder to see out of, but much easier to breathe in, and warm.

"Ready to head back?" She asked perkily.

Begrudgingly, Stonehenge got to his feet and mumbled, "No."

"Pardon?" Spere asked.

"The group sucks. We just sit around all day while the scavengers go out and do the fun stuff," Stonehenge explained.

Spere laughed dryly, "You can go scavenging whenever you want to, you know."

"Maybe I'll join you sometime," He said, and began to walk out the door.

Spere chuckled, "Oh, wouldn't that be a hell?"

Stonehenge nodded, "Mhmm."