It's easy to forget how messy killing animals can be: usually she can do it clean - a single arrow to the head or a spear straight though them and it's done. Now there's gore on her, on him, clumping the sand around them. Machines go down messily, but...well. Drily.
She eyes the corpse for a moment before saying anything - but dismisses it quickly. She has no idea if it can be eaten and no idea if the hide would be good for leather. Maybe later when she has more time. And doesn't have an audience.
"Of course I do," she says, returning to him and offering a hand to help him to his feet. "I have to eat somehow." There's something of a very teenaged duh in that sentence; she's not used to this new-fangled 'having food given to you in convenient packaging in exchange for currency' business yet.
"But usually I'm getting attacked by machines." And a very pointed nod towards the one right there with them - half the size of the smallest Charger and far less flighty.
no subject
She eyes the corpse for a moment before saying anything - but dismisses it quickly. She has no idea if it can be eaten and no idea if the hide would be good for leather. Maybe later when she has more time. And doesn't have an audience.
"Of course I do," she says, returning to him and offering a hand to help him to his feet. "I have to eat somehow." There's something of a very teenaged duh in that sentence; she's not used to this new-fangled 'having food given to you in convenient packaging in exchange for currency' business yet.
"But usually I'm getting attacked by machines." And a very pointed nod towards the one right there with them - half the size of the smallest Charger and far less flighty.