Frowning a bit at the girls words, Cale let out a grunt of agreement. “It’s not the… best of things, no.” Glancing down o the remainder of the walkers head and body, his hand tightened at his sides. It was a creature like this that his father had turned in to. A creature like this that had forced his mother to commit an unspeakable act against the man she loved. Regardless of who the walker had been, Cale only focused on the past facts. It was the only thing that got him through the day, got him through eliminating a walker if it posed a threat.

"Oh...right," Samantha replied, lifting her hands up so that her palms faced the open sky above them. Dark blood covered her from the tips of her nails to the base of wrists, trailing down her arms. She felt sickly. Holding her hands up in a shrug, Samantha frowned. Her sword was sheathed, its hilt sporting a matching handprint of reddish-brown muck. "It's the thought that counts, right?" She added, giving the boy a shy smile. At this point, Samantha would have done anything to get the blood off her hands -- anything -- but was it safe? For all she knew, the boy could have been charming her way to the nearest town just to kill her and take her things. It'd be a mistake, of course, since she wasn't very well off, but still. She didn't want to die.

Cale knew from experience that grappling with a walker could be disorienting and downright terrifying. The first time he’d ever met one it had nearly bitten his neck in two, but he’d gotten the better of the thing in the end. It was unnerving to say the least, showing a machete through a creatures head. Sure, it hadn’t been a person for some time, but it still had been at one point alive. And that’s what always got him. The fact that he was killing a breathing, moving, creature. Sure, it was dead and trying to eat him but… it had been human once. He knew it was stupid and he knew that it could very well get him killed one of these days, so he tended not to think about it when he had to shove his machete into some walkers rotting flesh.

Samantha Bell couldn't help but flinch at the sight of the boy running his machete straight through the corpse's head. There was a crunching sound -- the machete breaking through the skull? -- the body went immediately still, but still, Samantha watched as the boy twisted the handle of the knife, watching as more blood poured from the head wound. A groan elicited from her throat and she looked away, using her arms to cover her mouth as she tried to quell the wave of nausea that almost overtook her. How the Hell had she made it this far in the world if she couldn't even stand watching someone kill one of those things? 

However selfish it had been, the end of the world wasn’t something that hit Cale Diggory all that hard. It had been coming for a very long time. A world weathered family, the Diggory’s had spent a fair amount of time in random and not so random places around the world, and the common general theme they’d realized in all of them was that the human race was searching for perfection. A dangerous game was being played in Sweden with splicing cells, The United States were hell bent on gene therapy and England was deep in cloning stages to even realize that what they were tampering with was something that should be messed with. Once they’d returned to their small house on the outskirts of Scotland, Rowan Diggory had spent much of the first month going over a plan for a genetic ending to civilization, buying provisions and weapons and fortifying the home.

Beating two-fold, Samantha's heart pounded against her chest and she watched as her breath came out in short, white puffs of air. Her hair was frazzled, falling from the ponytail that had held it up just moments ago. Her fingers were sticky with blood and the smell of death was thick. "I -- uh," She stumbled for words, taking in the sight of the man in front of her. "I'm fine," She muttered, sheathing the sword that was in her hand. "I think," She added as she looked at her hands. Samantha didn't think she'd been bit, but she couldn't be sure with all the blood. 

I do have those sometimes. 

Of course it is. It always is. 

I’m perfectly okay with that. You’re my Lion, so… hey, it’s a good idea. If I get hungry in the middle of the night I have something to eat.

Huh. That's a good idea, actually.

… probably not, no. But they’re good.

You're a dork. My dork, but still.

I have. There’s a stash of them under my bed, believe it or not.

Is that...healthy?

I’m gonna have… these. And… some of that.

That...looks good. Have you had these before?

Look like the elves have been working overtime. There’s so much food.

It looks...all of it looks good. 

You wanna… grab some food first? Or something else?

Oh, sure.

Alright. Here, c’mon. Hand.

Mhm.

… now it is. You wanna head in?

I...yeah. 

Oh. Thank you. I dunno why I can never get it right.

...there, perfect.