She got out a couple of plates and scraped the food onto each one. Grabbing a couple of forks, she put the slightly dirtier plate on the coffee table, then sat with her own food at the table. She scooped some water straight from the bucket into an aluminum water bottle, took a long gulp, and started to eat like a starved dog. As she did so, however, she eyed the shotgun nervously. A shotgun would definitely win against a piece of sharpened glass, and Irene found herself hoping that this Hunter guy didn't have much ammo left. [i]Don't show any fear.[/i] 

She looked back to her plate and skewered a stringy chunk of bluebird on her fork. She should be killing a deer soon. She had a surprisingly good supply of salt, and it would last her through desperate times. Irene drooled a little. Venison sounded great at the moment.