"Don't...eat...greens," R shrugs. He would've said do I look like a vegetarian to you? but he knows without even trying he'll never get that one killer of a word out. Not with his stiff lips. The rigor mortis simply won't allow it.

After that plant trying to turn him into dinner, he's not sure he wants to. Seems like it's more trouble than it's worth and anyway, Eva smells so much better that his near miss is already fading into a distant memory in comparison. He shuffles along, telling himself he won't sneak little greedy sniffs her way every now and then and failing. She makes working on his limited control...difficult. Very, very difficult.

He shuffles wherever Eva seems to be going, reacting to any changes in direction by following along with his chin bobbing against his chest. It's both touching and a little too far for Eva to insist he's "handsome". If he was, he isn't anymore, R thinks. Death kinda does that to you.

"Will...do," R's groan starts to sound pleased. Doesn't seem so bad. He should - in theory - be able to get from Point A to Point B assuming there aren't any roadblocks like ladders or cliffs. "Hggh...happy...help."

For Eva, he thinks he'd do anything. It beats daydreaming about her blood pulsing hot and fresh into his mouth.