Donna buffed. This damned sun was killing her, as usual. She was wondering aimlessly, as usual. She was running low on food, water, and ammunition, as usual.
Well, she actually had three magazines of 9mm, and a bunch of spare rounds lying about. But her pistol clicked whenever she tried to fire it, and she lacked both the skills, and the parts to fix it.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. A flash of green. That meant that it was either a tunnler, or some sort of anthro. She wasn't sure which was worse. She held her lever action carbine tightly in her paws, her head on a swivel. She saw a building up ahead. It was old, pre war. It would do, the door could function as a chokepoint. Or it could be a trap.
She could find a rock. Which would be perfect, if it was tunnelers. They would try and climb up it, and then they would be easy pickings for Donna. But if they had guns, or throwing spears, she would be screwed.
Screw it. She would go for the building.
She sprinted forward, careful not to lift her carbine up from a low ready.
She burst through, with a loud bang. Anyone inside would have heard her. She slammed the door shut behind her, making a quick sweep for hostiles. There were none.
She backed up against the far wall, and waited.
She heard tunnelers outside, she could tell. There were four distinct footsteps, for each distinct "person". Which meant they we're on all fours. Sentiments, in her experience, stood on two legs.
Her rifle was shaking. It always did, when she was about to use it. Killing someone didn't get any easier with time. Facing danger didn't get any easier, either.