[ Unaccustomed to following someone else's lead (not because she prefers to do said leading, but because Camille's lived the lone wolf lifestyle for the past decade), she finds it's a nice change simply to have someone to follow. Relying on someone else, not having to be alone in making huge fucking decisions. Especially when she's not far away from a meltdown even on a good day. Even just the fact the other woman says she'll phone the police is a relief.

Which is why there's something apologetic to her features when they're inside the home and Camille's well-aware she's looking frazzled, eyes wide and breath shuddery. ]

That'd be nice, yeah. Sorry. I was in uh, rehab not long ago. Saw some shit. I guess I'm kinda reliving it a little.

[ It's an attempt at an explanation for why she's so shaky, and Camille runs a hand back through locks of tangled waves to push them out of her face. Admitting to a stranger you're fresh out of rehab is kind of a social taboo, but this whole place is a fucking nightmare and Camille feels pretty safe assuming this woman's as unconcerned about social pleasantries as she is. She's clearly not one of them. The Stepford Wives floating around with white smiles. ]