Every day was a struggle not to give into some sort of overwhelming darkness. The only way to survive was to put it away and act like she didn't care. Cut herself off from things. It was kind of awful, but the whole world was awful. At least they were in agreement about keeping it just themselves. She barely planned on even getting along with people, much less trying to start over in that way. The whole thing made her nervous and uneasy.
"My ass and I thank you," she said with a laugh of her own. "Well it's hardly as if I've put hairspray or barely any shampoo in it in the last couple of years." She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head. "Oh stop it, I'm not. I apparently just smell like steak. Maybe chicken. I'm royally screwed if zombies think I'm pretty." She wasn't sure what was worse to think about, a zombie trying to eat you, or trying to screw you. Gross.
Holding up two fingers, she grinned and got up to her feet. "Scouts honor, I won't get hurt. Or go very far. We stick together, of course." She had no plans on wandering off by herself. "Might as well go now, unless you're very much enjoying that book and don't want to give it up."