He can't help it - R wilts when Julie points out exactly how useful he isn't. His shoulders go limp, his mouth hangs a little more slack before he gulps. The words sting. They're also entirely true. There isn't much a zombie without working eyes can do for a human girl aside from -
Yeah. Not thinking about that. Julie's nowhere close to the menu. He'd say she's never been on it, but what happened (almost happened) at the Cornucopia proved otherwise. He's a lot of making up to do. Julie's right, of course.
R tries to recover, his cracked lips moving like he wants to purse them. With the way they've peeled back from his teeth, it's mostly just a twitch above a skeleton's frozen smile, the parched mouth unable to close all the way. He wants to groan thanks to Julie but all that comes out is:
"Okay. Look for...shelter...?"
There's limited options out here in the desert. R hates how his groan comes out in hesitant spurts, not the decisive sentences he wishes they would - he's not showing good leadership qualities today. At least he had an idea at all. It's a small miracle that he places all the inspiration for on Julie. Hearing her voice shivering up his back, feeling his corpse wishing it could do the impossible. Run. Jump. Grab Julie's warm hand and keep her safe in a way a zombie couldn't. R blew out a sigh. She's still a person-shaped blur. If it wasn't for the smell and the voice, he would've shuffled by her without a second thought.
"Caves and..." What comes next? R's spent more time being taken care of by Ma, having his own Dead needs met, that flipping the tables around is a struggle. R stares blindly in Julie's direction. "...Meat. Rabbits here...you can...eat."
He could find more. Water's a huge issue R doesn't have the mental capacity to worry about right now so he takes the zombie's approach: he stops thinking about it. R shuffles a little bit closer, stops, and then raises his hand to gesture at the big wide world of sand Julie has to look forward to.
no subject
Yeah. Not thinking about that. Julie's nowhere close to the menu. He'd say she's never been on it, but what happened (almost happened) at the Cornucopia proved otherwise. He's a lot of making up to do. Julie's right, of course.
R tries to recover, his cracked lips moving like he wants to purse them. With the way they've peeled back from his teeth, it's mostly just a twitch above a skeleton's frozen smile, the parched mouth unable to close all the way. He wants to groan thanks to Julie but all that comes out is:
"Okay. Look for...shelter...?"
There's limited options out here in the desert. R hates how his groan comes out in hesitant spurts, not the decisive sentences he wishes they would - he's not showing good leadership qualities today. At least he had an idea at all. It's a small miracle that he places all the inspiration for on Julie. Hearing her voice shivering up his back, feeling his corpse wishing it could do the impossible. Run. Jump. Grab Julie's warm hand and keep her safe in a way a zombie couldn't. R blew out a sigh. She's still a person-shaped blur. If it wasn't for the smell and the voice, he would've shuffled by her without a second thought.
"Caves and..." What comes next? R's spent more time being taken care of by Ma, having his own Dead needs met, that flipping the tables around is a struggle. R stares blindly in Julie's direction. "...Meat. Rabbits here...you can...eat."
He could find more. Water's a huge issue R doesn't have the mental capacity to worry about right now so he takes the zombie's approach: he stops thinking about it. R shuffles a little bit closer, stops, and then raises his hand to gesture at the big wide world of sand Julie has to look forward to.