Henley tensed up when he asked if she was alright. Was it that obvious? She did realize that a life and death dilemma would be pretty difficult to mask. After everything she’d been through in the past hour she supposed at least some of it showed in her face and posture. She sighed a little. “You could say that. Reanimated corpses have a way of shaking a person up.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was at least part of it. She didn’t think it wise to go around talking about her brush with a zombie.
It was still on her mind - The possibility that someone would have to lop off her head to keep the rest of the carnival safe. Other than a little bit of an ache and an itching sensation, the bite seemed relatively harmless. At least it did until you took into consideration what the cause of said bite was. Just when Henley thought she’d gotten out of explaining things to Peter, he was standing up and taking a closer look at the bite mark.
“It’s nothing.” She muttered, a glaring lie. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into one of them.” Her expression went against the false confidence she tried to show in her words. Truthfully, Henley was terrified of the possibilities that could stem from the incident and she worried that Peter would spill the beans to the rest of the carnival folk.
“Peter,” Henley looked him in the eye. “You can’t tell anyone.”