With Sylvain and Claude back in the safety of their shared room in the Sarstina, Hilda's days are no longer tied to the hospital and the temporary role of caregiver that she had slotted herself into. Normally she revels in free time, actively seeks it out in an effort to avoid work. But today she finds herself a little lost to the wind, as if the carefree days she spent before this ordeal had never happened and all she knows is how to fill it with relentless busyness.

It's disgraceful really, not to mention out of character. An unfamiliar restlessness courses through her veins and while the kneejerk reaction is to fuss over her friends that are home but still on the mend, the sight of them forms an even stranger knot in her stomach. Now that Marianne is here with a far steadier hand than she when comes to healing, Hilda forces herself to the baths instead. Because when push came to shove, choosing to turn her restlessness on herself had always been a soothing balm for whatever else ailed her, even temporarily.

With her basket of her various soaps, shampoos and conditioners in hand she slips into the baths. People mill about, each relaxing or lost to their own thoughts. For a moment she wonders if she should have dragged Marianne or Petra along to stave off her own thoughts but then notices a familiar shock of hair. Relief prickles across her skin and she floats over with a grin and her little basket in tow. "Gideon, welcome back!"