Ellie's eyes are sharp and suspicious on Abby's face, her jaw held at an angle that says she doesn't believe her, but doesn't have the leverage to push. But then something changes in Abby's face, and Ellie physically rocks back on one foot, catching herself the way she didn't have to earlier.

"Sure," she says, her eyebrows knitting together. She takes second to shift her plate, then jerks her chin towards her room.

Abby knows where it is.

Once inside, Ellie sparks up the candle in the lamp, parks herself on her bed. Gestures to her desk chair. It's wooden, sturdy. More comfortable than it looks. Spread over the desk's surface are a few works in progress, including what looks like several references for a pirate ship, and a large sea monster.