I'm not sure we can leave? Since the dead coming back to life isn't something that, uhm, happens all that much? Or at all.

I've been. Here? Yes. Most of the time. But, oh, that's fine, I-- Eliot is the one who's been, like, finding things? We have food. And. Stuff?

[Stuff, what stuff? It could be anything, but Eliot drags it back to the cabin and Quentin is all too happy to let him figure out what to eat, so they aren't forced to eat cereal dry out of the box or refurbish the bedspreads for toilet paper.] But thanks, though.