Just for his sake, she quashes the urge to roll her eyes. "This isn't your plane. This isn't the same." They weren't surrounded by the Dead, which she could hide from in plain sight with a little blood and a little lagged walking. Besides, shoving her in a plane for a couple of days had almost driven her crazy. The plane, the stadium, being shoved into a pipe -- all of it was the same.

This is her turf, the two of them surrounded by the Living. The desperate kind, the kind that slit a throat just to stay alive an extra day. She knows what it's like. She remembers.

Look, she trusts him. After all the near-death rescues, kind of hard not to. But they're still people, and people know to go for the head if a thing won't stop moving. She can't exactly trust there aren't others who won't group up to take people down. Hoping for the best isn't her style.

"We can go deeper, follow the tunnels down. Or up. I think they're still picking through the Cornucopia, so any direction opposite that." It's a terrible plan. All of them are, because this is a thoroughly shitty situation. But she's not leaving him to be her weird undead guardian, and she's sure as hell not spending another three days cooped up anywhere because he thought it was a good idea. She shrugs, and there's something lost in it. "I'm not living in a pipe."