See the city breakin' and everybody's shakin' and we're flayin' alive |Shireen, Willas, Roose, Jaqen
“Yes, this one is a private physician. I was employed by John Angleton for two years. I am named Jaqen H’ghar. This one was not wandering… Mr. Angleton had property in this area and it was supposed to be a safe house. That was not correct,” he spoke calmly. Of course they would be suspicious.
The UK government was doing a very sloppy job, rounding up their targets, and making a mess out of everything. They were not clean or precise.
He tidied up, sliding the gauze strips and med kit back into his shoulder bag. He turned to face Willas, letting a half-smile slip onto his face, “Do you two require assistance?”
His speech patterns are so strange.
He quickly became fixated on the information that this area was not safe. That was probably a given these days, but… it had been worse out here than even he had anticipated.
And my brother is out there.
He wondered if he should call or text Loras or… something. But if he was in a location where silence was important, that could be disastrous.
He could almost hear Margaery in his head. You let Loras get eaten by zombies?
Will realized a second too late that he’d been asked a question. His answering smile was forced. “Ah, no I’m good. Bolton is…” He suddenly remembered complaining from what felt like days ago. “Well he gave blood earlier but…”
Roose made a turn, eyes on the road, scanning left and right for other walkers or survivors. "That's quite a peculiar accent. Do you mind if I ask where you're from?"
He put his phone on the ground between the seats. "The most recent text message is from the person we're heading towards now, her name is Shae. Could someone please let her know that we're on our way?"
