There's something to that, that locks in tightly. Fond, and maybe she needed to hear it. She lives half in shadow, half in the blinding force of a legend she isn't sure she deserves. She had done many things she should not, caused suffering as much sought to end it. Hard, hard when she can never settle, always run, always move, never stop, to feel like that: real.

She says nothing of it, as she follows behind Beth to take her bowl of oats, eyeing her carefully that she would. Had to make sure she kept eating. Would coax as she had to. The next part is easier. Men were men, and once they worked out she was as inclined to put them on their rear as another man, it made jerking her head at a set of them: a couple of men she'd been on watch with that knew her. Indication for them to move up and out of her way.

Big, burly, brutes. She might be getting fond of their hard headed way as she on principal puts herself between them and Beth and gestures for Beth to sit down on her other side.