With the whiskey claimed by Sarah, and the wine claimed by Cosima, Helena pours herself something from the jug of mead. And then she sniffs it, sips it, and points in a silent question to Sarah's whiskey, asking permission to pour some of that in, too.

"What is Alison being like?" She is quieter, now, curious. They are laughing and smiling so easily. It is— it feels strange to be around, makes knots tangle in her gut.