When she joins him at the door, he brings a palm down her back, guiding her out it. He worries about her sometimes. He's not completely sure why, in that moment, but it feels right to be -- he feels partially responsible for her upset with death, too, and he's not sure if that's right. She's a grown woman, but she's still a little tender, isn't she? Or maybe he's hardened. A little desensitized, like his hand has been held over a flame for a bit too long.

It's better to have too much empathy than too little, he thinks.

"We'll see what else we can find. At the very least, we'll strip this place of any necessary supplies."