"I thought 'Candlewood' sounded rather cosy," Greta admits. She'd pictured something not unlike one of the inns back home, though of course the reality proved to be quite different. "I suspect it's much the same as yours. I do like that it's right by the countryside, at least." She's yet to stumble across more than a stray building here and there that truly puts her in mind of home, but the countryside is reassuringly familiar.

She can't help but grin a little at Demelza's wide-eyed expression. The whole experience had been rather mad at the time, but in retrospect, she can appreciate the adventure of it all. Even though she doesn't believe anyone was too seriously injured, it still feels like a badge of honor to say you were there, and got through it.

"I was," she confirms. "There, that is, not hurt. A few scratches." She flaps her hand dismissively; they've already healed over, and the faint, remaining marks will fade quickly. "A friend and I wound up barricading ourselves in a room until all the commotion died down." It had almost been fun, once they discovered the little cache of alcohol.