She stares at them, unflinching. Curiosity and an attempt to understand him mingle together; she doesn't think they're cool, at least, not now. Maybe later. At the moment, they mostly feel monstrous. Not even an animal. She thinks she gets what that means.

What was she, when she was chopping David's corpse to pieces? Animals don't do that.

When she finally looks up, she stares him straight in the eye, ignoring how puffy her eyes feel and hoping he will to. "If I give you booze I find," she says, "will you get wasted and fucking die when something attacks you?"