Beth's spent a lot of her time sitting quietly under a blanket caped around her shoulders, trying to decide just what her options are here. Every time the tent flap opens, she looks up, a little startled. Usually, it's another of the stone-faced soldiers; when a woman dressed in thick woolen clothes pokes her head in, Beth's made a little more curious.

Besides, she's given the tent the once-over and thought through everything she could be doing right now to get home, and the list is a lot shorter than she'd like. If she can get any more information on this planet (planet, it still sounds crazy thinking it), she'll take it. So, wrapped up in her blanket, she gets up to help the woman with the food she's bringing in.

"Thank you," she says, doing her best to keep her attention on the woman who brought the meal rather than the meal itself. It's probably the same thing they've been brought every time, anyway: already prepared, nothing that can be stored up in case their hosts stop being gracious about feeding them or they have to get out of here in a hurry. "It, um. It smells great."