A New Face [Rick, Kathryn]

Kitten wasn't a chatterbox, at least, with anyone outside of Bonnie, now. She used to be, when she'd been little. She would have talked to anyone and told elaborate tales of her day and favorite television shows. She'd been energetic, and happy and silly... but that was before. Now quiet meant safe, and scared meant alert. So she walked with Daryl, keeping up with the taller man's long strides as best she could. But by the time they reached the house, her limbs were as heavy as her eyes. However, she hadn't let out a peep of complaint, pressing on until they stopped.

He talked to her about his group and how they'd come to be at the old Victorian. Kit looked upward at the house, taking in it's outline in the dark with just the sliver of moon above to give it's shadows shape. Then she peered back up at Daryl and nodded.

She proceeded to follow him inside and to the kitchen. Daryl left her there and Kitty put a hand on the offered chair. However, she didn't sit. A few moments after he'd left, once she heard his footsteps reach the second story, she crept back to the staircase. Remaining at the bottom of the steps, she strained to listen. A door opened, and there was a second man's voice. Her tiredness was hit with a rush of adrenaline. Maybe there were only men here. Was her decision to trust Daryl, a good one? Her fingers curled around the spiked brass knuckles she wore on her hand. She pressed closer, to listen more.