The slap doesn't bowl him over - he's too tall, even hunched - and the zombie gives her a decidedly delayed reaction, gray eyes staring at her.
"Good...point," R says, hating that he's even agreeing in the first place. It's the hunger and Karis agreeing; it's not him, not really him, but who's he to say who he really is? It's not like he remembers. R struggles not to buy into the urging tempting him right in the face, reeking out of Karis in a heavy cloud. She's a driven Dead. Very driven. The kind other zombies back home would shuffle off to form a hunting party around without even thinking about it. She's motivated.
That, too, pulls at him. The letter in his pocket, the few minutes spent with Howard? They start to seem less and less important than eating, than stuffing his face with flesh until he can't eat anymore and going on anyway, bumping shoulders with Karis like they're best friends.
He's been starving all this time. The fact he made it this far is a miracle.
R doesn't know what to do, swaying in indecision, shoulders hunching over defensively as if he can turtle-up and wait for it all to figure itself out. He doesn't realize he's groaning hungrily until he registers it a few seconds later, sounding like it's coming from someone else, and that he's already taken a step so he can stand closer to Karis's shoulder, a silent lead on the Dead understand without actually speaking.
He hopes Howard's spooked. Hopped back in that bush. Booked it anywhere else but here.
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"Good...point," R says, hating that he's even agreeing in the first place. It's the hunger and Karis agreeing; it's not him, not really him, but who's he to say who he really is? It's not like he remembers. R struggles not to buy into the urging tempting him right in the face, reeking out of Karis in a heavy cloud. She's a driven Dead. Very driven. The kind other zombies back home would shuffle off to form a hunting party around without even thinking about it. She's motivated.
That, too, pulls at him. The letter in his pocket, the few minutes spent with Howard? They start to seem less and less important than eating, than stuffing his face with flesh until he can't eat anymore and going on anyway, bumping shoulders with Karis like they're best friends.
He's been starving all this time. The fact he made it this far is a miracle.
R doesn't know what to do, swaying in indecision, shoulders hunching over defensively as if he can turtle-up and wait for it all to figure itself out. He doesn't realize he's groaning hungrily until he registers it a few seconds later, sounding like it's coming from someone else, and that he's already taken a step so he can stand closer to Karis's shoulder, a silent lead on the Dead understand without actually speaking.
He hopes Howard's spooked. Hopped back in that bush. Booked it anywhere else but here.