[ The barracks, to give them some iota of credit, really aren't that bad but Hilda had been quick to toss the scratchy, ill-fitting clothes they had given her into the far reaches of her mind. She had probably seen plenty of other camps that were worse off but the barracks and Marianne simply can't exist in the same space in her mind. Even being exhausted wouldn't stop her from ensuring that Marianne only ever had the best. Whatever had been on her mind before is blown away with the appearance of her friend.

Marianne is also right in that this is a welcome reprieve from having to think about the hospital or the awful things they had experienced in the last four weeks. Somehow the prospect of having to explain to her what Abraxas is and after that, trying to unravel when in time she's from, isn't anywhere near as daunting.

All it takes is Marianne's agreement for her to tangle her hands with hers and for a pleased smile to spread like warmth across her features. She leads her up the stairs towards their living quarters, clicking her tongue slightly with a sound of discontent. ]

I can't get you cleaned up and then put you right back into those clothes. Those are going right into the trash. [ Never mind that Marianne is a little taller than her and has a pretty different body type to boot.

By the time they're back in the safety of their room, with the sounds of the inn muffled and quiet, Hilda is quick to draw a bath for her. She'll have to do a proper search for clothes will fit, but Petra probably wouldn't mind her borrowing her clothes until tomorrow. ]

Want me to wash your hair for you? It'll be just like we're home!

[ Stalling? Nah. Why would Hilda stall? ]