Alright. Before I get nasty comments about how this fan fiction is disjointed, please take in mind that this came from a "roleplay". A friend and I are absolutely in love with the WitchxHunter pairing, so when I came to her one day and said, "What would happen if a Witch and Hunter were able to successfully have a child that had the senses, reflexes, strength, and speed of an infected, yet still retained it's humanity? Was able to love, laugh, and speak?"

This fan fiction is what came out of that very idea. Anfisa is one tough cookie, just for the reason that I had an image of her stuck in my head and I couldn't get it out. She bothered me. She just wouldn't go away, so really, I've been wanted to write a fiction like this for a long time.

Armani Nightingale, who wrote the fan fiction called, "Touches Provoke Reactions", is the story of how Anfisa's conception came about. It's got some interesting background information on the Witch and the Hunter that star in this fiction as well. Since Armani, The Flea as I call her sometimes, also works on this fiction, I do not want people whining to me that I stole the idea and characters from her. She writes this one too! I'm sure she also plans on writing more about the Witch and Hunter in her own fan fiction, so I suggest you read them, they're incredible. :)

This one will become a regular fan fiction, and will be found on my profile since I came up with the idea of having it be a "roleplay/fiction", and yes, it shall be a series, probably a very long series too. Drop some reviews on it and tell me and the Flea what you think. :)

NOTE! The Witch and Hunter are owned respectively to Valve. These particular ones are near and dear to mine and the Flea's hearts, but we cannot truly claim them.

Anfisa, Jakobi, and Nira are out original characters.

Enjoy!

~SanctusEspiritus

Very strange. All of it, very strange. There didn't seem to be a sunny day anymore, in fact it hardly ever seemed to be daylight now. Did that bother the Hunter? Not particularly no, because when it was light he was visible and when he was visible he was the hunted rather than the hunter. That just annoyed him. Prone position, the feel of the concrete against his clothes was another thing the Hunter had gotten used to but what he never seemed to get used to was the god awful feel of wet clothes. His hoodie was warm, he knew that, even though he was entirely freaky zombie now he could still feel the cold - hunger was another thing, he knew he'd have no problem cannibalising someone for food. He ate survivors all the time. What made him different? A largish silver cross about his neck, and the fact this Hunter seemed to have a fetish for med packs. The crying was starting to agitate him, but it also perked his interest. Okay, he'd heard a Witch crying before but why now? There was no one around, why was she crying now. At least, no other infected bar himself.

There were no other infected in the area, so truly why was this Witch screaming as if she were in pain? There was no reason for it. She had been in this state for many hours now, screaming and wailing as if she had been startled by someone. It was a loud and creening noise that was alerting her presence to all those within several miles, including survivors that would love to make sure that they did not run into her. So, where was she? She was resting herself inside of an abandoned house, in the bedroom of a an old couple. There was a dusty, broken picture frame on the floor that showed them, happy and smiling. That had been before the infection had taken place. The Hunter heard the screaming, and it was coming from none other than his Witch, the very one that he had visited more than once and mated with. It had always been something rough and not out of love. She was his mate, as strange as that sounded. It had been months since she had seen his face. Her body had changed. Her middle had ballooned out into a large mass. It almost looked like a beach ball had been attached to her stomach. Her breasts were swollen for some reason. This was unknown to the zombies. Never before had something like this happened. She was knelt down in the corner, her sobbed were rocking her body as contractions were forcing the baby in her womb to move down. She was pregnant, and in labor. This was something that never happened. Her dirty and blood-stricken palms were pressed to her eyes as she screamed in pain.

Mates. It was strange. Nothing like that had been documented. Probably because no survivor ever survived long enough to make a list because they got tore apart or stamped upon by a Tank. It amused the Hunter to see the Tank step on the survivors like the survivors would stamp upon cockroaches. The circle of life, eh? The screaming in the end was more of a curiosity perk er than an annoyance - this was life, screaming people. Be it Infected or survivors. He huffed, a comical expression and left behind his pile of packs, leapt across the rooftop and shimmied over the block or two before dropping down to find his way inside the house. Walking on two legs was okay, generally he preferred the four - easier on his back that way, oh what an old man, it was crumbling steadily on him but it would never give. No survivors would go near them, the Hunter also knew that many infected would steer clear. It seemed only this one was dumb enough to keep going back to the very thing that wanted to kill him. Eventually, he nudged open the door with clawed fingertips, peeked his hood covered head through. Dammit, he hated that noise.

A mating pair of infected individuals had never been heard of, not even among the infected themselves. They were always ignoring the others, or getting angry and trying to kill them. For right now, the Witch was finding her silence the only solace she could find. She had been shot at, set on fire, and who knows what else, but this pain was coming from inside her body. She could not explain it. Well, obviously she could not explain it. She had lost the ability to talk, or even think, for that matter. She shuffled a bit, moving when the pain did not hurt as bad. It came in waves. It had been getting worse over the course of a few hours. Her sobs had died down for a moment or so. She made small, sniffling noises. When that door creaked, she screamed in rage. It did not matter that she did not even see who it was, she was angry. They were getting close and making noise. She wanted it quiet. She just wanted to sit there and cry. She lifted herself up onto her frail legs and jumped at the intruder in her room, but she didn't get far at all. A strange noise escaped her throat, a strangling noise almost. She screamed, but scrabbled back into the shadows of the corner. She had her clawed fingers feeling the crowning head of the babe that she had been unknowingly working so hard to birth. She stopped crying once more, shocked by this alien thing that was sticking out of her. She shuddered, her body forcing the head out another inch. She nearly fell forward onto her face. Her hands shot in front of her and caught herself. She started to push against the pressure that had been gathering in her middle. The babe was birthing much faster now.

The Hunter ducked out instantly she leapt at him - like hell he was getting himself sliced and diced! Though, she didn't reach him and he found that strange because the last time she'd managed to get her ass in his scampering ass as he'd vanished, now she'd scrabbled away from him - so despite the obvious danger he crept further in and found some sort of peace knowing if anything happened he could very easily go out the window. Whatever it was, the Hunter did not want to know but he could smell blood and he was always hungry so he decided to stick around. It was true, even amongst the infected it was unheard of but it had been over 2 years since first infection, surely they were not the only ones who were mated? Around here they most definitely were.

Perhaps mated pairs were not that rare, but none of them had produced a child. That much was almost guaranteed. The Witch was shifting her weight again, making it possible for the child to come out without getting sat on. There was strange feeling that this infected female was getting. It was some sort of tie towards the little being that was sliding free of her body. She had scrabbled onto the bed, so when she felt the bed give a little as an extra weight hit the mattress, she turned to see the sickly little thing. It looked like a reptile. A lizard almost. She was ignoring the Hunter, the very one that had sired this strange little being. The Witch leaned down and sniffed at the cheek of the still babe. It smelt like blood. It made her hungry. She snarled and began to look around, hoping there was something more to it than just this little thing. A few moments later, it seemed as if her troubles were not yet over. She went back to pushing something out. A few minutes later, the after birth was laying on the bed, making it all the more bloody. Infected were going to come to the scene if she did not clean it up. She started to nip at the organic blood filled sac that had come out of her. She jumped and scrabbled away when it began to ooze blood. She snarled and went closer. Then she noticed that it connected to the naval of the little lizard thing by some sort of strange looking cord. She seemed to remember her own belly button. She leaned down and bit at the cord, close to the baby's belly. She left about an inch, but at least the cord was off now. She looked down at the placenta and cord. The blood was too tempting. Her eyes, red and puffy from her constant crying, were shining with blood lust. She at once began to feast on it. The baby hiccuped once, and then she suddenly screamed and squirmed. It was cold!

All the while, the Hunter had just watched with a very visible fascination. When the babe wailed, he jumped almost a mile before steadily creeping closer, chest almost touching the floor and regarded it with curiosity. Better look and run, Momma'd try and eat him when she was done with whatever it was she was nomming on. He sniffed quietly, then pulled back - it was squirming, and making noise, and, and, and it wasn't amusing the Hunter any at all but still - he was hungry. He sniffed briefly, leaned down and quietly licked the cheek of the child, drew back. Zombies were hardly the warmest of creatures, but at the same time everyone needed warmth at some point in their life. A very strange little being. So, what did he do? Licked the child but didn't look like he was wanting to pull off a chubby leg, nu, looked content to lie there in his prone position and lick the babe clean. Would Momma nom him? The Hunter was pretty certain she'd at least get pissed at him for breaking her rather large bubble of personal space.

The Witch was far too busy feasting on the nutrient filled placenta. She was aching, but obviously she did not seem to care. She had not been able to hunt very well thanks to the little lizard thing. It had not been easy for her to move much at all, so this was a much needed meal. It would help her strength to return. The Witch had finished her meal, and boy did she look the part of a true zombie. Her fingers and mouth were covered, soaked in blood. She had not noticed the wailing of the child. It had calmed down when the Hunter had been licking it. Perhaps that was strange, but what was this Witch to think? She had never come across a strange little being. She stared, unsure of what the Hunter was doing. She growled, crept closer and snatched up the babe in her clawed hands. She held her close to her chest, snarling at the Hunter as she moved back into the corner. The babe now had her eyes on what she had been wanting. The Witch had lost her shirt ages ago, so she was sitting there naked. The babe latched onto one breast and greedily nursed. The Witch howled in surprise and nearly dropped her little lizard thing. She was still eyeing the Hunter. She wasn't crying. The Witch was not crying for once.

He'd not been hurting it! It'd stopped screaming, for now at least so when she snatched it the Hunter just looked unimpressed and gazed at her through blackened eyes and scuffled backwards when she yowled. He didn't move back any farther, just sat himself down and watched the two. Someone had ate well, and it seemed the little blob of flesh would also be eating well if it was eating now so the Hunter turned and shimmied to the window. That's when he noticed. She wasn't crying. That was odd, odd enough that it made him turn around and go back again to look at her fully. So, in reality they were both staring at each other? That worked for him, because as he saw it she wouldn't drop the little blob to chase after him, and considering he'd stopped the thing from crying would she still try and eat him? Most likely, but bleh, this turn of events was far too intriguing to leave.

That little blob, lizard, baby had grown. She had grown into a young lady that was just like her parents. Sort of. She had the strength and speed of both of them. She was able to jump like her father, be able to soar over fences and all sorts of other obstacles. She had the sense of smell like them both. She had come used to the fact that blood would attract her to almost anything. But perhaps the most interesting things was that she retained her humanity. She was strong, swift, fast, and yet she could speak and think. She could laugh and love. It was something that was unpredicted. The child of two infected had ended up being almost human, of course with the exception that she sometimes tried to eat other living beings, but she had been getting better at controlling the hunger. She had gone to eating greens. She did not eat meat any longer. Perhaps the most impressive thing was that she could be out in the open with other infected, and they ignored her. She could stand right beside a tank, and it would not bother her. She ignored them most of the time. But she'd found her own little obsession. Weapons. She loved gathering them and leaving them inside a little room. The very room where she had been born. Her mother was still in that house. Since she now had a being that brought her food, she did not have to wander. She still cried though when she was alone. She did not cry when her daughter came to her. The girl was the only one that could get close. Now, she was racing over the rooftops, a smile on her face while a howl escaped her throat. She was enjoying herself. She had found herself a pair of jean shorts that fit nicely, and a zip up hoodie that went over the grimy bra that kept her bust in place. That was all she wore. She had no need for shoes. She turned her head, her black hair was a mane. She could hear him, the Hunter. He was always with her.

Daddy always followed her, he was never that far away. It wasn't that he disliked her going out on her own - of course not, why did he give a rats ass, no one touched her - but because she often went about gathering weapons and going by people and that often led to med packs. That, and he seemed to have the natural instinct to follow her around. The Hunter tended to stay around the area of the house when he wasn't out stalking his daughter or trying to eat a person, he lounged outside the door where the Witch normally stayed to be and never got closer unless he got that strange feeling of his lower regions. The Witch didn't seem to have birthed a baby lizard again, so that was alright. It was amazing really how the girl had survived. The Hunter paused upon a roof top, shimmied along in his cat-like way and looked down with a noise, talons gripping the edge. Was that survivors, could he hear them? Certainly he could smell them. Ah! There was one, come bolting out of a building with a hoard in tow. This was a girl, a woman no doubt, middle aged. Behind the hoard stepped out a younger man with a cross not too different to the Hunter's own but rather than going to help the woman - she'd been torn apart by now anyway - he turned and vanished down the other end, jumped up a wall and grabbed onto a balcony to pick himself up - doing so would save himself from some infected, but not from the Hunter.

The girl saw the Hunter as her protector. Sometimes she had pissed off a spitter or smoker, and he had always been there to help her. It was an odd sight, seeing such a human looking girl with a Hunter that stalked her. The Witch and Hunter continued to mate, it seemed. The girl was an oddity, perhaps she would be an only child. It was not some big deal anyhow. The girl paused. She could smell the living humans as well. Her nostrils flared and the sweet smell of blood filled her senses. She was purring. She did not like to eat meat anymore, but the scent of blood was one that not even she could resist. She watched as the Hunter began to move closer to the edge, she did as well. She inched closer and looked over the edge. The older woman would not last a second longer if someone did not stop the infected. The girl felt moved to help her. She looked down at the hunter for a moment or so before she crouched down and sniffed his face before she licked his cheek. Then, she jumped down from the building and hid in the shadows. She put her hands to her face and suddenly wailed, moving in the same sort of fashion that she had seen her mother make. She had perfected this. She truly looked like a Witch. The infected all turned to look at the girl as she hobbled near them. She swore that she had never seen them move faster. They were suddenly gone. The woman was alive, fear in her green eyes, but at least she was alive. The girl dropped her hands and was down on her hands and knees, moving much like her father did. She inched closer to the woman, sniffling lightly. How would the woman respond?

"My god, I've lived too long to get torn part," She whimpered, scuffling around on her person for bandages and god knows what else but she couldn't patch herself up on her own, that, and the girl in front of her was freaking the living daylights out of her. Said woman just stared at her, entirely blanked with fear and skittered backwards but she'd dropped her gun and was helpless. That was the good thing, the bad thing? A laser sight had settled onto the back of her saviour's head. The Hunter spotted it too, spotted it before his daughter and shimmied, leapt from his rooftop and atop the man that held the gun with a shriek.

The woman did not have to worry about the girl that was sitting in front of her. Just for the reason that she had blue eyes. Yes, she actually had eyes that held color. She was not a zombie, that much was clear just looking at those curious eyes. She moved forward and sniffed at the woman for a second or before she reached for the med pack, looking at it. She tried to pry it open. It wasn't coming open. She growled in frustration and began to beat the back against the ground, trying to see if it would crack open that way. She didn't notice the little zipper on the side. Her father never let her mess with his hoard of med packs. She finally spied the little silver zipper. She plucked at it. It still refused to come loose. She snarled and chewed on it. As she chewed and jerked on it, the zip came clean and the bandages fell loose onto the ground. She dropped the med pack and sniffed at the bandages. She shook her head before she simply handed them over to the woman, a bright smile on her face. She dropped them on her stomach then turned to the pistol. She made a strange noise, one of happiness and picked it up. She sniffed at it and bit at it in certain places. She was purring. She tucked it away before she turned back to the woman and nudged her, making her get up. That was when she heard the shriek. She looked up to see her Hunter on top of the young man. She blinked once or twice, then simply ran over to where the man was. She jumped up to the balcony with ease. She pressed her weight against her Hunter and handed him the empty med pack, her head cocked to the side. She licked his cheek and nudged him off of the young man.

Her Hunter moved when he was nudged, nomming on the top of the med pack and looked slightly blank when he realized it was empty but let it hang out of a clawed hand anyway. The woman had bandaged herself up then picked herself up as she was nudged the stand and swayed, reached to pull free her knife and let the girl keep her weapon - she seemed far too dazed to realize that this blue-eyed female had run off with her only firearm. The man had been howling, wouldn't you be if you had a Hunter clawing at your clothes? Her Hunter made a noise when he was ushered off, a sort of calm bark and sat there in silence, looking between her and the man - who stared up at the sky for a few seconds before pushing himself to sit and staring up at her. His only weapon it seemed was a bolt-action rifle that lay discarded on the floor, the crudely attached laser sight still active.

She giggled. Yes, she giggled. She was capable of that. She was giggling at the sight of her Hunter chewing on the empty med pack. He loved them for some reason. She was always able to get her way with him if she gave him one. Of course now he had himself one that was empty. She went over to the rifle and looked it over a few time. That was when she saw the laser sight. She suddenly jumped and braced herself on the concrete, her breasts pressed against the cold and watched it with fascination. She was purring. She picked up the rifle and began to chew at the laser sight, eager to get it off. This rifle would join her collection. And this laser sight? She was not sure yet. It came loose from the weapon and clacked against the concrete. She put the rifle down and sniffed it. When she picked it up, she looked at the little dot that moved across the ground. She was still purring. Her hands reached out to grab the little red dot. When she found that she was not holding anything, she gasped. She tucked the laser sight away and picked up the rifle. She threw it onto the roof before she looked down at the woman and now to the man. "Come on," She said simply with a smile.

The Hunter watched them with interest. The man stared at him, wide blue eyes and holding his breath before quietly pointing at the Hunter "He won't... Kill us?" the man answered, his voice smooth but just on the rough part of post-breaking. The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Who cares, Jake. Just go with it, we're dead as a pair," she responded. "Jake" pulled his lips back from his teeth but he didn't argue, slowly picked himself up and watching the Hunter then the girl as if waiting for one of them to go bat-shit insane on his ass and eat him. Though, the girl seemed far too intrigued with his rifle sight and the Hunter was chewing on an empty med case. Fair enough, he guessed.

"No, he might kill you," She said as she looked up at the building and just jumped up with ease. She looked down at the woman and cocked her head to the side. "But with the med pack in his mouth, I'm hoping it'll keep his mind busy. He's a very simple fellow," She looked to her hunter with a purr and just motioned for him to follow. He would, of course. She leaned down and grabbed the young man by the wrists and pulled him up as if he weighed nothing. She rested him on the roof and said, "If you pick up that rifle, he will hurt you," She jumped down once more and began to help the woman up as all as she said. "You two will be safe with us though. The infected don't come around me," She said as she picked up the rifle that she had snagged from the young man and began to lead them back toward the house in which she lived. "You guys will need to be very quiet when we get back though. If not, it will be instant death," She warned ahead of time. Surely they were going to ask questions. As, why was she able to be around a Hunter without him killing her?

"But... You speak about him as if he's no bother to you," said the man, watching the placid Hunter as he wandered along happy as pie with a med kit in his mouth and purred happily. He'd never heard one purr. "You pick up the rifle but he doesn't try to gut you," he said while the Hunter stopped, stretched and yawned with his claws racking across the gravel. Nomming on a med pack was nice. But when they got home he'd probably go and bed his Witch, it was one of his favorite things to do when he got horny or bored. The woman simply nodded, supported by the man she'd pulled up before. Survivors, actual survivors.

" He isn't a bother to me," The girl said as she set the rifle down and got down into a position that was like his. She inched forward and sniffed at him, grinned and then shot forward and grabbed the med pack with her own teeth. She loved playing with her Hunter just like this. She felt like a child again. As a young girl, she had always attached herself to her Hunter's back and just let him run with her there. She had been able to hang on thanks to her infected-like strength. She growled and jerked herself backward, knowing that it would make him annoyed and then he would play back. These survivors did not understand. Actually, they were the first human beings she had ever actually been able to talk to. It was great. She was finally able to use the vocal chords she had been training up until then. Tapes, CDs, and even radios had come in handy for the girl. She had taught herself to speak. She dropped the med pack before she picked herself up and snagged the rifle. "Of course not. I collect weapons. That, and he's my Hunter," Wait, they would not understand that. Her brow furrowed, then she remembered the right word. "Father. I mean he's my father."

The Hunter made a noise when she grabbed his med pack, growled at her and when she jerked back he pulled back his own way, reaching out to grab her like he had when she was a child and roll around in the gravel with her, snapping and snarling at her to get back his pack. Someone was protective. To many outsiders it looked brutal but he never harmed her, he liked playing. When she stopped, he sat back on his ass and scratched quietly at his temple under the hood. As a babe, when she'd attached to him he'd let her, when she'd come and hid under his jacket during winters, he'd let her. She could push him around and he'd let her. "How can he be your Father? You look human," the woman said finally, eyeing the thing that scratched like a dog with the pack in front of him, picked it up when he was finished. "Jake" just watched them quietly, his brow raised, his arms folded across his chest but weary all the time of his surroundings.

"I look human. So does he, but he's an infected. So am I. In a way," She frowned. How was she supposed to explain this? "Did you not notice that I can jump just as easily as he can?" She asked as she motioned to the Hunter that seemed so insistent on chewing on the med pack. She had always been close to him. The Witch had just huddled up in her own little room and just cried softly when it had been that cold. The girl had hidden under his hoodie and stayed there for the longest time. Now, she was too big for that, but she still adored the Hunter. She was sitting down. "I'm the result of him and a Witch mating. I don't know how it worked, don't ask me. I just know that I came from them," She answered as she kept leading them on, moving over the buildings briskly. It was bad to stay in one place. They would alert a horde if they did not move fast enough. She began to her the Witch's wailing. They were close to being home. She looked happy. She stopped on the roof beside the house that she lived in. The wailing was loud, very loud. "When you come in, be completely silent. Until she stops crying. Once she's not crying, you'll be okay. Wait to come in when my Hunter does," She just jumped across the alley way with ease - one that was well over fifteen feet across - and soared through her bedroom window. She placed the rifle down on the floor, where she had gathered countless other items. She took out the laser sight and snuck into the room where her mother was wailing. She inched closer before she whined. It always got the Witch's attention. She waited until the wailing stopped, then edged closer and handed the laser sight to her. She was always bringing the Witch something interesting when she went out with the Hunter.

The two survivors gave each other bewildered glances, this girl was from two infected people mating? Well. Nothing was crazy these days, nineteen years on; it was a miracle they were still alive. Jakobi had been born at the start of the infection, the woman he travelled with had been born fifteen years before. Jake watched her jump, his brows furrowing but now - seeing that - he had no other choice but to believe her. She was at least partly infected then. The Witch had stopped her wailing when the girl had whined, watched the laser sight through half closed red eyes and took it in a small palm to look at it with interest. It seemed she had been just as curious as the younger female had been when she'd found it. When the wailing stopped, the Hunter moved across the street and through the front window, pushing the curtains aside as he did so. The survivors exchanged glances, frowned but then silently crept after him, both quiet. She'd got a Witch to stop crying, of all things. A silent Witch, a tamed Hunter. Said Hunter was milling by the stairs to wait for her to come down. If their blob of flesh brought the Witch something interesting, she could be quite quiet for a few minutes when she was left alone, it was normally then the Hunter normally snuck up for some fun time.

This girl did not have name. She had lived seventeen years, and she had not been given a name. She yawned widely and had a very gentle smile on her face. She was the only one that could touch the Witch without getting mauled. She nuzzled her face into the Witch's shoulder for a moment or so before she backed away and stood so that she could go down the stares. She knew where the Hunter kept his hoard of med packs, so she snatched it from him with a growl and disappeared once more to hide it in it's place with the others. The Witch was being quiet and was amused by the little gift that her child had brought her, which meant that the Hunter could do and pin her down. It usually worked like that. The girl looked to the two survivors and said, "You'll be safe here. The Witch normally does not move from her room, and when we are here, she does not cry. If she's not crying, you're free to walk around. Just don't go in her room. My Hunter will bring her something to eat. That's when you want to stay completely silent," She nodded. It was good they knew these things. She strode into the kitchen and looked around for something to feed them with. She had no name. Would they ask her for one? Jakobi was the name of the boy. She looked to the woman, "What's your name?"

Her Hunter let her, then when the coast was clear Jake heard him shuffle upstairs and the thud of bodies on a mattress. "I believe you know," he murmured ever so quietly. "Nira, Nira Southworth," she made a motion to the man who'd perched precariously on the edge of a worn couch. Jakobi Barlow raised his hand simply. "What is your name then, our mysterious savour with infected parents?" Nira asked. Her brown hair was cut into a bob, she wore nothing but a salmon pink top covered in dirt and blood with a pair of baggy jeans. Jakobi wore a leather jacket, a silver cross and a pair of dark trousers and boots. He had no shirt. Of course, from upstairs there wouldn't be very much noise - there rarely was if the two were up there alone.

"I don't have a name," The girl said softly, her gaze was averted from the two survivors and just came up with old packs of ramen. She snarled at them before she threw them behind her. She moved out into the garden in the back. She grew her own food, since she refused to eat meat. She looked at the plants and inspected the fruit and vegetables that had grown there. She found a few strawberries and cherries that were ripe. She picked them and then snagged some of the tomatoes and lettuce. It was not a feast, but it was probably the first real meal that the two humans inside had eaten in a long time. She hugged them close to her chest and carried them back inside and set them down on the table in front of them, watching them carefully. She moved back and began to remove the jacket she wore. She put it down on the ground. She had nothing on underneath but a bra. She was hearing screams and cries from outside. The girl lowered her head for a moment or so before she stood and shook her long mane of hair out, letting it cover her face. She put herself near the door, "Don't speak for a few minutes." Maybe they could give her a name? She put her hands over her eyes and just wailed. She truly did sound like a Witch. At once the infected began to scrabble away from the building.

Jakobi watched her in silence and when she wailed he felt Nira snuggle into his arm, cling to the leathers of his jacket. The noise shocked her, it did. Nira had been fifteen a the start of the apocalypse. Jakobi had grown up within it, it made no difference to him now if he heard a Witch. His youngest memory was of that noise. She had no name? Now that won't do, he thought quietly to himself as he watched her wail, then heard the scrabbling with a silent snigger. Upstairs he heard the vague shifting too, but the Hunter was far too happy to screw his own Witch to be wary of one downstairs. Strange, very strange. "Well, we'll have to give you a name then won't we?" he said once he knew it was safe to talk. "It depends. The decor of the house seems... Russian, maybe? Makes sense you'd have that mind set. Natyashenka? Nah.. Ilga, Grace, Maria. Anfisa? Take your pick, it's up to you." Indeed, the plants she'd picked for them would be the sweetest, freshest that they'd tasted in years. Jakobi had been brought up on rehydratable foods.

The infected that shuffled past the house noticed the wailing of a Witch, and when they saw her, they knew well that it was not wise to get close to her. She was ignored then and they passed on. When the girl stood, she gave a grin. She did not have to do this, but since there were survivors in the house, she would keep them safe. She did not like the idea of them dying. So, she would make sure that Jakobi and Nira were going to live. She knew not what names her parents had used to go by. She simply knew them as the Witch and her Hunter. That was how she had been born thinking, and that was how it was going to continue to be. She crawled back over to where they were and listened to the names that Jake uttered. She cocked her head to the side. "Anfisa. It's Russian for flowering," The girl blinked once or twice. She had a name now. Anfisa.