He'd heard a lot of variations of "no!" - most of it scared shitless, these terrified screams turning into whimpers when they found out the hard way boarded up windows don't always keep out zombies - but R couldn't say he'd heard it said quite like that. It was like a no to a dog, like he was about to get swatted with a newspaper for bad behavior.

Then he got slapped in the face.

Not punched; slapped.

It wasn't enough to make him stop and reconsider his life choices. What it did do was make R pause for a second, an idiot's surprised look actually crossing his face, his mouth open as a string of black ooze dripped out onto his shoes. Something like a baffled grunt wormed its way out of his chest and past his lips, his head sagging to the side as if that slap had dislocated his jaw, his eyes on Aunamee. The Living man's arm hung there, limp, like he'd blew everything he had in that one slap. The grunt gurgling up out of R worked its way back up to an attack groan, the only warning tell Aunamee had besides the way he hunched one shoulder down.

The zombie went lurching again after Aunamee, wobbling over. He got his hand tangled in the jacket, R struggling to pull himself closer to he could bite his nice, straight nose off. Don't ask him why. He just felt like going for the nose first today.

Sometimes he liked to shake things up.