"Well what are the odds of that, then?" she noted with amusement, already planning to relisten to the entire CD to pay more attention to the percussion section... just out of curiosity. Maybe she could convince him to sign the disc before they parted ways. "I play a bit too," she noted, although doubting he'd be impressed.
Hardly intimidated by the moody cat despite the warning, Mabel gently scratched behind its ears. She dealt with plenty more dangerous and angrier animals before, that Pitch was far more endearing in her tiny rage than anything. Though never having a pet of her own and sure she'd be a neglectful owner, she supposed she could see the appeal of the company. "Nah, just cows," she confirmed without picking up on the context for his questioning, not really used to being in much of anybody's company if she could avoid it, although most of the time she didn't have to bother with other people doing the avoiding. Small town gossip hadn't been particularly kind, but it made surviving the loneliness of the suddenly underpopulated world much easier. "Mostly dead ones. After I'm finished with them," she added casually.
"Have you..." Mabel paused then frowned, glancing off to the side suspiciously, but not seeing anything. "Met any others, along the way?" It was difficult getting an estimate for how many survivors were left, and she wasn't certain if she was hoping that it was few or many. She wasn't particularly optimistic about any hopes for the repopulating of humanity and had no plans in doing any contributing either. And yet she had been enjoying life more the last few months than she had for all the years before.