There was a long pause, and then an almost indiscernible flinch, half-covered by Yuffie jerking a hand up to tousle her own hair. "Gee, thanks, sunshine. Queen of lame analogies." she muttered, fingers still buried in the thick black mop on her head. Her bleak tone sank down into a wintery slush, in a move she'd copied from bad actors and depressobots everywhere, "I feel like a zombie; I look like a zombie. I most likely am a zombie, and lemme tell you, it sucks balls."