Hanna shakes out his feet, the wet sinking in through the canvas, and god did he hate wet socks. They were the worst. "I feel like life, or the afterlife is kinda supposed to be what you make it, so. If you didn't like being the undead, maybe being dead suits you better. Who knows?" He grins, hoping that Maurice doesn't mind him just spouting out bullshit, but he seemed chill.

"I think that tends to happen. Dude was just sitting there sucking on his finger when he turned, just out of it. Strange to think that if you're covered in your own blood when you turn that still works as food."