By the time he gets there, she's stopped needing to move so much, the adrenaline all but gone. Her hair is messily piled atop her head, she's wearing the same loose fitting clothes and jumper that she slept in, and she's almost through with the gently smoldering herb.

Seeing him makes her eyes well up again, but she offers as much of a smile as she can muster before running to him and throwing her arms around his shoulders. He's like a lifeline that she clings to, balling her fists in the fabric of his shirt and letting out a shaky breath as if she can only just now breathe fully.