"Thank you, Bunny. It does seem a fantastic place," Nadia said over the edge of her own jar, her tentative smile growing. She, on the other hand, had a few ideas. She knew exactly where she wanted to be—with her mother (now impossible), or Antón, or Alejo—but in the middle of that deep yawning gaping void, she could think of few replacements better than this. Tonight. These people. The apple pie moonshine was a familiar taste; not written in her bones like it was for the Harlanites, but it reminded her of a quiet room with Nate and spilling her story for the first time. Finally cracking open the possibility of settling down in this town, even if her brother wasn't here.
Her dark eyes glanced over to the Scotsman, considering.
She could fit in amongst these people, perhaps.
She took a deep drink from her own jar, savouring the dessert-like liquor, the heat that spread from her tongue to her chest. The woman nodded to Bishop, an acknowledgment of what he'd already understood—the courage she needed tonight. Just enough to take the edge off.
Which, buoyed by these three and their surprisingly comforting presence, Nadia now felt ready for. "Bishop, if you could spare a guide—then I will come find you three at the fire after, before we have to get back?" There was no end of camp women in the vicinity who knew the layout of the camp better than she did, who could be dispatched to escort her over to Marina's tent. And leave these old friends to catch up a little in private too, before she returned to them.