Maggie Greene and Finnick
Maggie couldn't manage any kind of response besides dumbfounded silence for a good few moments. At this point, she was starting to feel she wasn't the only one dreaming. Like both of them had somehow been pulled out of their own personal dreamscapes and ended up... here. Wherever here was.
"Alright- far as I know, there ain't no capitol left to rebel against, so that'd put me in the 'neither' category... And walkers. Biters, rotters, deadheads... the walkin' dead that--"
Maggie cut herself off. The look on the strangers face was definitely not one a fellow survivor would have. Not a single person left alive on the planet didn't know about the Dead- not even the sheltered ones in Alexandria. The realization that her company had no idea what she was talking about should have just been more confusion if this were just a dream, but Maggie's chest got very tight. Her heart pumped a little harder- hard enough to feel under her threadbare shirt.
"...you ain't got any idea what I'm talkin' about, do you," she asked, gravely.