Jane frowned as Shayre desperately tried to find more blood to out on his wounded head. She couldn't think of anything to say but, [i]I'm sorry there wasn't enough blood. . At least, you look much better, now,[/i] but she stopped herself from speaking. It was the truth, but sometimes, Jane spoke when she ought not to have spoken, and she feared this may have been one of those times. She felt gluttonous over her wound being healed and his only healing a certain amount. He really did look more awake, though. 

She had not noticed before that he looked disoriented. She must have looked awful before the healing. She did not deny the fact that she looked horrible, still. She still could feel the hunger nawing her stomach, probably eating itself.

She watched as Shayre sat down against the tree trunk, she remembered doing the same thing for several days. Three or something. How did she even manage to do that? She must have been out of her mind, tut it was a safe way to live. . apparently.

"My name is Jane," she spoke up.