The other girl's hands in her hair feel good, help soften some of the residual tension she's been finding it hard to rid herself of. Fuck if it isn't just good in general, to be around people in an everyday setting, away from the hollow horror of encroaching death. She knows she's meant to be hot shit. Sometimes though, she finds herself feeling like a sheltered girl who's been thrown in at the deep end.

She settles herself against the feeling of Hilda's fingers against her scalp, and the soothing pressure of the water around them. Focuses down on the bright prattle of the other girl's voice. This is okay. She's okay. They're all more or less okay, now.

"I dunno, that kiiiinda sounds like you've got a good thing going. How many people are you cramming in your bed, exactly?" she says, and there's a return of the usual slant to her voice, "but yeah, I'll give you the tour. It's the kinda place just begging for guests to come over."