Her heart skips a beat when the response that comes back is a request not to go away. Please, God, if there even is a God, don't let her be dangerous. Don't let her be a marauder. Please, please don't let her hurt me, Lydia takes a moment to think desperately because she's beyond starved for companionship and she will be shattered if this girl has more interest in stealing what few supplies Lydia still has and then leaving the ginger girl for dead or something. It wouldn't be unheard of in the world as it is now. That's probably the scariest part to think about.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll meet you halfway," she calls out and it tears her throat a little to raise her voice like that when she's failed to use it for at least a week and change. She hitches her bag onto her shoulders and starts forward slowly. She'd love to approach with a matched speed to the other girl, but Lydia just doesn't have the strength or energy for it. Barely moving is better than not moving, though, and that's just going to have to do.

"What's your name?" she calls out, partially because she hasn't decided whether or not she believes this other woman is real or whether Lydia's just gone that crazy that she's dreamed up an imaginary friend in the middle of the damn apocalypse just to keep herself company. God, that would be pathetic...