... It's a weird request and they know it, about as much as they know Abby wouldn't have asked at all if she could have come up with an alternative. She wonders what could be going through Ellie's head as they make their way, not speaking; her room is quiet, and small. That's good. It helps, a bit.

A distraction in the form of Ellie's drawings presents itself before she takes her seat. Abby nudges an open book out of the way to better appreciate the arching sketch of a large, double-breasted ship-sail. Ellie's really got an eye for this kind of stuff, huh. It's cool.

Frown. She looks down at her fingers on the paper, and opens her mouth.

"Got back from Starkhaven this morning. We were raiding a Venatori encampment full of researchers and–" a thick swallow, one hand gesturing to the softness of her throat, "Ellis got stabbed right through. I saw him die."

Abby has seen a lot of people die before. It always happens faster than you think, and then it sticks with you for an indeterminate amount of time. You remember it when you're least expecting it. Of everything, a gurgling, wet death-rattle is stuck in Abby's head. Her brow knits again, and she feels weightless and strange when she adds, "But– Dickerson was with us, and he brought him back to life. With my blood."