((Sorry for the half-assed description of your character Folion, but to be honest, I have no idea what he's wearing.))
Well, at least they hadn't shot him on sight, and for that, James breathed a small sigh of relief. Slowly, with his gun still over his head, he stepped close until he was within ten feet of the man, clearly visible but hopefully nonthreatening. He put on a diplomatic smile, reserved enough to hopefully not come off as insane.
He took a moment to take in the man in front of him before speaking, but only taking the time to check the important bits; the face and the gun. The gun was was looked to be a pretty good rifle, even if it deep seem to be mostly a hunting weapon, flesh was flesh to a bullet. His face though was the real interesting part though; he looked resolved, yet a little anxious; suspicious, but obviously not jumpy enough to kill anything on sight. All in all, it was enough to tell James he'd probably made the right decision, and so he began talking instead of leaping down an alleyway.
"Hi there, buddy, my name's James, and we seem to be in a similar predicament. I know you've got no reason to trust me or give a shit if I live or die, and I respect that, but I've got quite a bit of food in my backpack here and I'm not a terrible shot, and we'd probably do better in this hell together."
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