"It's there," she says softly. "Every minute of every day, except now. Except right now. The hunger." She's got her arms folded because otherwise her hands are still not steady, and she doesn't want him to see. Doesn't want to think about it, even though it's all she can think about. "How many people have you killed, do you think?" She whispers it, and she doesn't even know why she's asking.