"Relieved, definitely relieved." She assures him, "They weren't recently dead, or anything. And some weren't... adults." Her expression tightens as she tries to not remember her fire poker smashing zombie bits. "Some people did better though with the whole thing. There was one guy, kinda looked like a punk pirate, all black leather - he was doing well."

It'd been good to know some people could handle that sort of thing. As much as anything was 'good' at that point.

At some point she's managed to take his hand. It's real, more real than books and music and rooms she can't remember getting into in the first place.