She’s quiet for a long, drawn out moment. Positively pouty, dare one think maybe even a little mopey. She scowls at him with her arms folded crossly over her chest. “I don’t like you very much.”

More like— she hates how evenly they’re matched in their loyalty to the other. How she’s always been just as stubborn as he is in the end, but it’s for completely different reasons.

“Fine,” she snaps the word out of her mouth bitterly. “But I’m only eating what’s strictly necessary not to die.” She doesn’t trust anything in this place of death and rot and decay.

She’s quiet for a long moment before glancing over at him again. “…how’re you taking it?” Not well is her knee jerk base assumption.