"Not all of them." she says dryly. Clementine's had enough encounters with adults who cared little how old you were to be more cautious.

She rolls her eyes and swings the bag off her shoulder, "I'll look if you give me a minute. And seriously quiet down, the adults aren't the only thing that might try to kill us."

The weapon in the girl's hand is unfamiliar and looks unwieldy to say the least. Clementine would pass, focusing on unclipping the bag and kneeling down to check it.