Slowly she slipped the serrated knife in the beltloop of her jeans, and adjusted the slighty-too-large hoodie. She wet her lips, considering his words carefully, before drawing in a breath and giving him a brave nod (moderated, of course, by the delicate hint of a quivering lip).

"Alright," she said resolutely. "I'm hungry too. You promise not to kill me, and I'll help you find your cans and maybe even let you use my knife to open them."