She wondered what it would have been like to grow up differently than she had. There was no point in dwelling on it, but ... she wondered, anyway. But since Samantha seemed to get the idea of what she'd meant, Sylvia was content to leave it there. Time and money were different to most people, she knew, but to her, they were the same still.
"It's nice to meet you," she replied. "Have you been on board long?" She asked. She guessed from the clothing perhaps not long enough to find the clothes in the baggage car, but maybe she just ... didn't like the selection. It was kind of picked over by now, and there hadn't been much to pick from at the last stop.
"I was ... thinking about Misty," she admitted almost shyly. "But Snowflake is pretty, too." Sylvia hesitated at the question. "I found her. At the stop. She was ... she was the only one alive in a litter of others. She's not sick," she hurried to assure the other woman, knowing that was a concern that had been raised by the others she'd mentioned her to. "I had the doctors look at her, and ... she's been fine. She's not sick," she repeated, even though Samantha didn't exactly appear to be concerned about that. Still, Sylvia had already heard enough about the idea she'd brought the virus onto the train that she just wanted to clear that up up front.