"Mate, I don't think you're meant to examine the thing. Seems like it would really prefer to stay where it is and I'd really prefer to not get torn apart by the undead. It's not exactly a way to die that's on me bucket list." Seeing the undead, however, is definitely on her list and she is absolutely delighted by it, even if she doesn't show it. It's usually not received well when she shows it.

She looks down into the fog, her vision better than a human's and makes out the dark contour of the skull. She crouches down to pick it up. An action that proves to be a mistake as once she has it out from the fog, it begins to enthral her.

"On second thought..." She sinks down into the sand and stares into the abyss of the empty eye sockets. "It's so lonely," she mutters, more to the skull than to anyone else. "Being so old, living so long. Everyone dies in the end. Not me, though. I just keep going. Always the hero. Never a moment's rest. I've lived countless lifetimes, I've lost more people than I can count. It's endless. I keep going, I keep fighting, I keep finding these...people. I care about them and I lose them in the end. It breaks my hearts just thinking about the inevitability."