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Everyone needs to feel the warmth of another human being at some point or another. Even if the circumstances boil down to a simple transaction, the soul will be rejuvenated.

No because a gang of five or six shamblers would break her legs, blast her with a shotgun, then throw her off the cliffs of Majula. Of course, the shamblers would be courteous enough to place a rock where they shot her and inscribe it with 'git gud'. It's how these things usually go.