The question caught Wren of guard because no one had asked her that and she hadn't even thought about it. Why not? Cut her own piece? She snorted at the ridiculous notion that someone like her could actually survive out there on their own. "The only thing that'd get cut would be me. I'm not a fighter or anything like that. I'd last two minutes even trying."
"The only sights left are spawn feasting on flesh. It isn't wrong that I want to feel a little bit safe ever so often, that I miss having a place that is mine." Not that she thought any place would be hers any more. And really she hadn't thought about not going, she'd been swept up in the need to get there because it meant somewhere safe, it meant not worrying and not being scared all the fucking time.
"How do you stand it? Just... walking. You're just waiting to die. That's the most depressing thing I've ever heard. As least I'm trying to go somewhere. What's the point of walking if you don't have a destination?"