"Things would probably go better for us if that was the case." She smiled overly brightly at him but her gaze was drawn back to the bricks. The smile fell away.
"I'm going to build that containment cell," she said firmly, looking back at Will and wondering what he would say. "I wasn't joking in that post."
It stood to reason, because of the time and place of their stories, that Marian was somewhat softer than the rest of them. She had always been The Woman, and even in the stories that made her stronger and more capable, she was still so often expected to be the caregiver, the one everyone could go to with their problems, the girlfriend/sister/mother substitute for a group of single men living away from society.
But even if she had been in the past, the modern Marian was no damsel, no weak fainting English rose.
But, thinking about those bricks, about building up a wall one by one, she didn't know if this was ever the person she was meant to be.