Sam gently pressed her back against the door and cast her eyes downward. She had been granted a temporary reprieve from social contact; the first, she felt certain, in weeks. She pressed two fingers against both temples and squeezed her eyes shut as the pain from her concussion asserted itself once again. The patterns of flashing light beneath her eyelids might have been interesting -even entertaining- under more benign circumstances. Today, in this strange place, surrounded by unknowns and hostiles alike, she seemed capable of feeling only one thing.

As she tried to sort out her thoughts, the memories became a jumbled mess of past, present, and her hopes and fears for the future. She remembered briefly wondering when these periods of lucidity would grow to be longer, or more frequent, than those of detachment and confusion. The thought seemed to come from outside her own mind, and she tried to discover where.

From the window, Sam observed geysers of flame, issued forth from an unseen source somewhere near the lodge. From her vantage, she could not determine their origin; the slope of the roof would not allow it. The aggressive orange glow felt vaguely comforting to her and, for a time, she just watched. It would be the first moment of peaceful reflection granted her in ages.