@armstitch is the bee’s pyjamas
“Want some? There’s plenty for you and your boy.” She’s referring to the strawberries currently baking in the afternoon sunlight—they’re not nearly as plump as she could make them, but it would probably raise suspicion if any of the food she was growing looked like it was ignoring the current apocalypse. Still, they are definitely good; it’d be an insult to her pride if they weren’t even a bit juicy. It’s not like she has a problem sharing, since she can always grow more. Besides, she’d always been an altruistic soul.
Plucking one off the low hanging vine, she pops it into her mouth, leaves and all. Partly to prove they’re not poisoned or something ( in times like these, no one trusts anyone ), but also because she’d been about to collect that one anyway—it looked like it was about to plop down onto the ground.