"I've come to think that might just be what happens when you wish for adventures." As a girl, she'd wanted romance and drama and excitement; had dreamed of handsome youths who would sweep her off her feet. And in its way, it had all come, and it had killed her. Adventure, it seems, is like a storm: you have none, or you have more than you care to handle.

At the other woman's offer, Susan smiles, grateful for the thought even if she isn't at all convinced that there's much help to be offered.

"I don't know that I'm one for talking," she admits, after a moment. "And for what it's worth, this world don't seem too different to mine. Or, at least, to what I've heard of parts of mine." It's a long way from the little ranching town she grew up in, sure, but she suspects it wouldn't look too unfamiliar to Roland and his kin. "Besides, I guess I've got the advantage. A cell's a cell, wherever it might be."