"We'll find him, and he's gonna wish he was dead."

She reaches back to press her hand on top of Voodoo's. For a few moments, she stands there like that. Then she straightens up, drops her hands back to her sides, and heaves a sigh.

(She's back on an even keel when she turns to face him, even if her eyes are still prickling.)

"Starving," she responds. "And I really need some coffee. Faye better not have drunk it all." She flashes a brief, wavering smile at the joke. "Think they'd give me an extra cup if I said pretty please?"

It'd certainly go a long way to solving the Keller-induced headache pounding behind her eyes.