The last four weeks have felt like they've been culminated in some bizarre fever dream. Running in little sleep, adrenaline and hope can't sustain anyone for very long and it's starting to show on her. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun atop her head in order to hide the fact that it's absolutely filthy, and she's probably got blood smeared on various parts of her face. And thank god for her gloves because her hands are probably a wreck too.

There isn't time to think about fixing her appearance though. She pushes on, determined to try and make her friend's stays in the Nocwich medical tents bearable with more homely comforts. War time scarcity has forced someone who is used to lavish living to get creative, but she has always been, if nothing else, resourceful.

She emerges from one of the tents an armful of supplies in her hands when she spots a familiar head of hair and alabaster skin. Before she can stop herself, she's rushing towards Lenore and catching the young woman into a firece hug supplies be damned. "Len! I didn't even know you were coming to Nocwich."