It was nice. Nobody bossed her around, or told her what to do. She was her own person, and even if she was answering to the Man, she'd likely tell him to fuck off and do her own thing anyways. "Yeah, I guess." She turned and held her own hand out, grasping his and shaking it. "You don't loot for yourself?" She cocked her head at him and frowned. Some people were whipped. It was both surprising and pathetic. But she kept this opinion to herself. She didn't want an enemy in an enclosed space. Especially not one who had a shotgun.
At his comment about missing things, she quirked a brow. She'd missed what? The books? She wasn't interested, though Laney could understand why they might prove valuable to other people. Without television or movies, most of the population was probably bored. "I'll pass on Lord of the Rings, thanks," she responded, waving her hand at the bookshelf. "When I run out of firewood, maybe I'll come back here for them, but until then, I'm not wasting space in my pack."
She crossed the threshold and peered into the doorway towards the kitchen. She hadn't been in there yet. The few cans she'd found had been on her way, and scattered across the hallway of the building. She'd only been into the front room, because the light wasn't very bright and the windows were so dirty that the sun was having a hard time streaming in. She wasn't scared, by any means, but she just hadn't gotten around to going in there yet.
"I haven't, but I've taken it you have, Evan? Anything left in there?" She eyed his stomach. He didn't look like he'd eaten everything in there. But he'd also said he wasn't looting for himself.