This city smells gross. An old, wet smell, like mildewed leaves and rot, and she never really gets used to it. Then sometimes they walk into a building that's been all closed up for years and the smell changes, gets drier. It makes Clarisse think of old bones and the dried out husks of insects.

This gas station is somewhere in the middle, smell-wise.

She's been pretty quiet since they've been here. Not scared quiet, just serious, prepping for something bad to go down. For all her dicking around in the Gallows, Clarisse knows when to shut up and pay attention.

She still spares a smile for Ellie as she reaches up to catch the stuff being thrown in her direction. The smile's a little bit grim, but it's genuine. She stuffs the food into her backpack.

"Thousand year old zebra cakes... gourmet." She stands from her crouching position and looks longingly in the direction of the empty fridge lining the far wall. "Now we just need some Red Bull."