One thing that Phoenix was good at was barking at the living. The dead she feared, the living displayed whole new colors. She was that guard dog he remembered, determined to defend her guardian. So when Geoffrey heard a faint hello, the dog went launching after the voice before she spotted the stranger. Her stance was sturdy and teeth displayed as she growled at the fellow living. She let out what she believed what a threatening bark before she sat in place, intense eyes watching the stranger's every move. She didn't like him so far.
Geoffrey rushed after the sound of his dog and sighed with relief, yet sadness. Relief because his dear old dog had found someone else who wasn't undead and sadness because she barked at the wrong issue. The living did there own thing. They fucked off and looted for their own benefit. He saw the man as no threat, but one never knew.
"Sorry. She doesn't take well to strangers." He wouldn't put it past the dog to bite. "I took most of the supplies in this room." The evidence was the stuffed duffel bag. "But I'm sure there is plenty to go around. I'm sorry if I was loud or you were looking to take this place up first."