"What?" This is a lot for having just woken up. Abby sits up, legs crossed, blanket pooled at her waist. She kneads her knuckles into the side of her neck and looks over Clarisse's hunched body at Ellie's bedroll: empty, sheets pushed back. "... Clarisse, she probably went to the bathroom."

Clarisse's frantic energy isn't completely misplaced. It has been really strange being in the tents, not unlivable, but not entirely comfortable either. The three of them are sharing with little tension, the weirdness having more or less dissipated over time. It is what it is. Abby still wants their rooms back but right now, she can live like this.

She looks at Clarisse. There is something undeniably off about her. It's giving Abby a sort of tummy ache, a strange nausea. "You okay?"