Carol nods and then says, quietly, "I'm sorry." It's the kind of thing that is understood nowadays but still bears saying aloud, if you ask her. That there isn't anyone left who hasn't lost practically everything doesn't mean she shouldn't be sorry about it.

She shifts the shoulder strap of her rifle, too laden with weapons to carry them comfortably. "You headed anywhere in particular?"

Should she ask him to come with her? Such decisions are risky of course, but so is trusting no one. Look how the people of Terminus turned out.