Brennan nodded, not having anything else to respond with, but not wanting to leave the statement completely unanswered. It was something his mother had always berated him for: ignoring when other people talked. It had been a habit of his when he was younger, but he had, for the most part, outgrown the habit.
"Yes. It wasn't what my mother wanted when I was growing up, but it was what I supposed I was meant to do." Up until the point when his occupation ceased to matter, Iris constantly reminded him of how she wanted 'so much better' for him, how he could have been a doctor and that she was disappointed. Brennan had come to despise the very word to the point where he would have to leave the room when she said it.
"I knew that the Wakers called people to them; I didn't know they attracted other infected. It makes sense when you factor in that the sound of talking is a sound that isn't common outside of the safehouses. It's no wonder the infected rush to the sound." Brennan had yet to encounter another Waker since the first time he came in contact with one and that one had been put down too quickly for him to gather any data. "Have the other infected ever attacked a Waker?"
The concept of the Wakers was as interesting as it was terrifying to think about. Brennan had always wondered if they were actually conscious, if they knew exactly what they were and what they had become, if you could talk to one.
"I can't really tell from here, even with these," Brennan said to her as he handed the binoculars over, pointing her in the direction of the runner he had seen. "But it just suddenly dropped. I've seen deterioration, and that could be what caused its collapse. It's impossible to tell without seeing it how bad it is, but its not moving at all. All the muscles couldn't have crumbled to the same extent."