It would have been easy to fall into the joking. It was almost funny, except for the fact that she couldn't get the memory of him dying in her arms out of her mind. That haunted her nightmares as much as the serial killer these days. Mary jabbed her finger at Johnny's chest, not actually making contact.
"Don't. You don't get to joke about lions and guillotines when you fucking died in my arms."
She bit her lip and looked away. She was still a raw nerve in a lot of ways. She still wasn't sure if or when she'd be able to put herself back together.
"There are springs under the island, so we're okay with water. And there's plenty of fruit and we've been doing some hunting-normal hunting, not ghosts."
She changed the subject just as if the emotional outburst hadn't happened. She didn't much want to dwell on her emotions at the moment. Maybe never. Never would be better.