Participants:
| Scene Title | A Call to Answer |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Ygraine comes calling, to find that Sable's called elsewhere. |
| Date | December 8, 2010 |
Situated in a copse several miles away from the nearest stretch of asphalt, the Garden is accessible via an old dirt road that winds snakelike through the woods and dead-ends at the property's perimeter, which is surrounded by stone wall plastered with wicked coils of rusty barbed wire to keep would-be intruders from attempting to scale it. Those with a key can gain entry via the front gate.
The safehouse itself is a three-story brickwork cottage over a century old and covered in moss and ivy. It slants to one side, suggesting that the foundation has been steadily sinking into the wet earth; incidentally, this may be one of the reasons why its prior occupants never returned to the island to reclaim their property when government officials lifted evacuation orders and re-opened the Verrazano-Narrows shortly before its eventual destruction.
Inside, the cottage is decorated in mismatched antique furniture including a couch in the living room and an armchair nestled in the corner closest to the fireplace that go well with the safehouse's hardwood floors and the wood-burning stoves in some of the spare bedrooms. A heavy wooden table designed to seat eight separates the dining area from the rest of the kitchen, which is defined by its aged oak cabinetry and the dried wildflowers hanging above them.
Preceded by the rising and falling rumble and roar of a powerful engine tackling a hard-packed dirt road, its ruts and pot-holes frozen rigid save for where deeper puddles are topped with merely a crusting of ice over frigid mud and slime, a lone figure on a now-filthy bike finally emerges into view in the garden around the Garden. Caked and spattered in the filth of the trip, the rider presents an oddly mottled appearance - black leather and darkened visor decorated in a cammo-pattern of stripe and splotches of varying shades of brown.
Of the three guardians left to watch over the until-recently abandoned Garden, only one is sapient - and insofar as such a quality means 'wise', even that may be stretching it. It's colder than a witch's tit, the mid-morning sun doing little but sent barbs of white light through the trees, lancing down onto the frozen ground. As such, it's crazy that anyone should be anywhere outside the range of the fire. And, in fact, two of the Garden's keepers are wise enough to cluster near the heart. Of those two, neither is the ostensibly sapient one.
Sable is, for whatever goddamn reason, sitting out front. Dark and puffy in a black winter jacket, legs pulled up in a cross underneath her as she perches on the front step, the occasional shivers she gives evidencing the fact that she should know better. But Sable should know better about a lot of things. Better than to be out and unmoving, and better than to be messing with dangerous things. Better than to indulge in crazy fantasies. But Sable aspires to never be better than this last, and the sleek but substantial shape of an AK-47 rests across her lap, metal gleaming darkly, as she 'keeps watch'.
And, just as her luck would have it, here comes someone to be watched for.
The sound of the engine draws Sable's eyes from a hazy but intense peer into nothing whatsoever, up to the dirt road that traces its way from here to civilization. Her weird yellow eyes blink, and her legs uncross as she discerns the motorbike and its passenger.
The big, powerful, filthy bike rumbles to a halt before the house, its rider dismounting in a fashion clearly indicating a stiffly jarred spine. Still, she pauses to look over her machine before bringing up mud-caked fingers to remove her helmet.
That done, with dyed-red hair gleaming in the pale light, Ygraine flashes a grin at Sable - her exhalation forming a little misty cloud before her face. "Fuck me, but that road's a pain at this time of year."
There's a slight tilt of the head, a gesture towards incredulity, because Ygraine is not someone Sable expected to see. In truth, why she'd expect to see anyone is the real question - she wasn't exactly filled in on the reintroduction of the Garden into the Ferry's active circle, for all that Colette mentioned the intention. Out here, Sable does a neat little cognitive trick of forgetting the exterior world and its exterior factors. At least mostly.
A single hand rises in a stiff greeting. "Mornin'," she bids, and her voice has the slightly cracked quality of a thing left still in the cold for a little too long. She taps her chest, clearing her throat, and attempts a smile of her own in return. "I'd ask y' what yer business was, but don't I know that yer all business, eh?"
Ygraine laughs ruefully, then shivers. "Gawd, it's cold", she mutters, eyeing her helmet as if considering sticking it back on. "And… at the moment, yeah. I'm here on business. I'm afraid that I didn't compact my spine just for the pleasure of the ride. Though I'd no idea who was out here, I admit. How're you doing?"
A slow roll of the shoulders serves both to loosen Sable's joints, and to answer Ygraine. Shrug. "Y'all come on in," she says, knees popping as she unfolds her legs and rises to her feet. The AK remains, cradled in the crook of her elbow, looking like the weapon of a particularly unhinged homesteader. She keeps the barrel pointed comfortable downwards, than God, as she tips her head towards the door. "Make y' some coffee."
"That", Ygraine says warmly, "would be very welcome. Though I've brought you a few vital supplies of life. Including coffee. In case you were running low." She gestures to the panniers on her bike. "Anything you don't need, I can take away again and haul somewhere else that has an active use for it. But I've tried to load up with a few odds and ends that might help."
"Whatever yer offerin', hon," Sable says, sidling up to the door and pulling it open, "I'll take." This particular configuration of words can't not have been composed without some thought to their potentially doubled meaning, but it is delivered with such a flat tone that any suggestion is nipped in the bud. Sable sounds tired. Too tired. Still, she holds the door for Ygraine, taking a brief glance inside to make sure Misty doesn't make a break for the great outdoors. No worries. Even puppies know better than to be out in this cold unless they absolutely must.
Ygraine dithers briefly, then springs up the steps - only to wince upon landing - and move for the door. As she heads inside, however, she does tentatively attempt to rest one hand upon Sable's shoulder. It may actually leave smears of half-dried, part-frozen mud behind, but the gesture's clearly meant to be sympathetic or reassuring.
Sable's yellow eyes flick up at Ygraine's face as she passes, something like a question in her expression, though nothing fully formed. She slips in after the Briton, letting the door clatter shut behind them, and sets the AK-47 in a lean against the wall next to the exit.
Now that that the action is inside, and the scent of someone newish has entered the building, Misty nearly levitates from her curl at Jupiter's side and canters over to the entrance, tail wagging, first with curiosity, then with happiness as Ygraine fully resolves into the canine's sensory suite. She gives a short series of barks in greeting, then pads over to sniff at Ygraine's boots. Sable half-smiles at the puppy, unzips her coat, and points into the room with the hearth. "Y'all warm up, I'll put some water on. Y' eaten 'r anythin'?"
Ygraine offers Jupiter a surprised look, then a rather fond smile… before crouching down to offer Misty her hands, and the wide array of scents they bear from miles of assorted mud-spatters.
"Hello, there", she murmurs to the little canine, before looking up and grinning at Sable. "It's odd, seeing you being domesticated", she observes with a wink. "But I'm fine, thanks. I'm trying not to use up the supplies of the places I visit while dropping off things."
Glancing around, she frowns a touch worriedly. "And… how're you doing? Yourself?"
"Ain't been collared yet, hon," Sable replies, with a hint of the sardonic, scuffing her feet against the tattered welcome mat before sidling towards the hearth room. Jupiter has finally seen fit to look up from the sleeping dog's lie and, spotting Ygraine, thwaps out a soft beat with the wag of the tail. Sable shoulders her coat off and tosses it against the wall before taking a crouch by the fire, extending her hands and warming her fingers.
"Don't go turnin' down a little hospitality on account 'f some fool principle 'r nothin'," Sable remarks, looking up over her shoulder at Ygraine, "need somethin' hot to drink, Jesus, I'll join y' in th' drinkin'," her brow arches, "wouldn't happen t' have brought any liquor with y', eh?"
"Oh, the coffee I'll gladly take. I'm restocking you with that, at the least", Ygraine says with a grin and a wink, gently ruffling Misty's ears. "And… I think I might have some whiskey in there. Not sure if there's a bottle left. And I think it's well-enough wrapped it'll have survived the ride here, too."
Rising, she carefully wipes her feet - then kicks some more of the mud off, before repeating the process. "I think I'd best avoid sitting in anything remotely clean", she says ruefully, peering down at herself.
"Ain't got no change t' offer y'," Sable says, apologetic, slowly accordianing back to a stand, "but don't you worry overmuch, hon. Y'all jus' make yerself at home. Can't do no worse than th' dogs've done 'nd'll do yet." She turns, pauses. "Good t' see y'," she says, at length, "'N case that weren't clear." Another smile, a little strong this time, and then Sable weaves her way into the kitchen. She has to raise her voice to have it carry out into the living room and have it be audible over the crackle of the fire, which looks very well maintained.
"How's ol' Quinn doin'?" comes Sable's inquiry, as she starts to load the wood stove with kindling, "feel badly jus' runnin' off so sudden, as I did, but when y' hear a call y' gotta answer, y' gotta answer, y' know?"
"She's… Heh. Well, I think it's safe to say that she'll want to talk to you. The band's got a job offer. And so's she got one of her own on top of that", Ygraine calls through, a smile in her voice. "But I really should leave the details to her. But have a talk with her, whenever you can. I think she'll be glad of it…."
A slight pause, then Ygraine speaks up again - her voice now distincly concerned, tone cautious. "A… call you had to answer? Yeah, I can sympathise with that. I got one version of those - that's part of the reason I'm doing the rounds of the people who might be… rather cut off from the central network. You're probably aware that the Club's got some secure communication lines? Well, don't trust their security at the moment. They might've been compromised. I'm sorry to say it, but we might be reduced to me being our best bet for secure communications between locations right now."
Sable strikes a long match against the cast iron side of the stove, and sets a bit of newspaper ablaze, starting up what will, should all things go as planned, soon be a comfortable little fire. As the orange and yellow tongues spread, Sable gets to her feet, calf bumping the grate closed. The kettle still has some water in it from the last round of coffee, and Sable only has to refill it briefly before setting it to heat.
"Fine by me, hon," Sable says, appearing in the doorway again, tugging her hood up over her head, "don' mind havin' company proper-like. Yer a sight f'r these sore eyes, surely." Again, something that could be tinged with suggesting but, due to tone, seems empty of it. That said, she doesn't sound insincere. "'N' if y' see 'er b'fore I do, let Quinngirl know I'll be back when times comes f'r a change 'f th' guard here, eh? Hopefully won't be in too long, neither."
Ygraine nods quick agreement. "Sure. Of course." Sable, now that she's back in view, is rather worriedly studied. An offer of work for the band, and not even a peep of interest?
"Umm…. so…. What's up?", she asks, opting in the end for blundering directly in. "It's obvious you're exhausted, and I have the impression that's more than physical. And you said there was a call you had to answer…"
Okay, this actually draws a smile from Sable, crooked but true. "Oh, babe," she says, "why's it have t' be more th'n physical? No need t' make nothin' more 'f it th'n what it is." The coin has flipped to its obverse, but rather than sincere and undoubled, it's doubled and insincere. A joke, if wry. She moves into the living room proper and takes hold of an ancient but sturdy looking rocking chair, easing herself into it and prying her shoes off with her toes, sending them tumbling to the ground. She tugs her legs up into a cross again, the chair wobbling back and forth beneath her. "Y'all listen t' Zep?" she inquires, seemingly apropos nada, "dirty thieves, but fine musicians."
Ygraine blinks, looking momentarily blank, before laughing softly. A shrug produces a creak of leather - and sheds a few more flecks of mud, her decorating layer of dirt now drying more rapidly in the heat of the room.
"A bit. I can't claim to be a huge fan, but…. What're you getting at? I hope that you don't know anyone trying to acquire a stairway to Heaven…."
Sable gives a small huff that's almost a laugh and shakes her head, rocking steadily in her chair, this piece of furniture ideal for channeling her near incessant fidgets. "And if I say to you tomorrow, take my hand, child, come with me, it's to a castle I will take you, where what's to be, they say will be," she recites, with cadence but no melody, like someone quoting scripture. Her dark brow lifts. "Know that song?"
Ygraine clearly has to think about that one, and doesn't sound wholly certain when she replies. "Something about the answer lying with me?", she ventures. "Ummmm. 'What is and… and should never be'? I think. Something like that. I'm afraid that my knowledge of lyrics is terrible, compared to yourself and Quinn."
Sable leans back in the chair, back of her head bumping against the wooden rest. "And if you say to me tomorrow, 'Oh, what fun it all would be', then what's to stop us, pretty baby, but what is and what should never be?" is said with a slight inflection of agreement. Ygraine got it right, mostly. At least the name of the song itself. "What concerns me, hon, is jus' that. What is, eh? 'N' what should never be. No real concern 'f yers though, gal, so don't you fret over it. You tell me whatall th' fuck's up with our crew, eh? 'n' whatall I'm s'pposed t' do t' help."
"Something's weighing on you", Ygraine insists, though her tone is quite gentle. "And it's, well, kind of my role to find out what people need and give them whatever help I can arrange. In general? I'm not sure there's a huge amount you can do immediately for the Club as a whole. There's an awful lot of rebuilding going on - and just basic survival work. Trying to round up supplies, and all the things that people could have done with bringing with them when they ran away from home, but didn't have time to."
"I figure out jus' what I need t' set all things t' rights, somethin' I think y'll c'n track down f'r me?" Sable says, arms stretching out onto the arms of the chair, "I'll let y' know." It doesn't sound like she considers this extremely likely. Quite the opposite, from the way she says it. "'N' not much? Ain't that jus' th' way it always is, eh? Well, I'm th' one keepin' 'n eye on this here crumblin'-type estate, so I guess that's me doin' my bit. Figure that's enough?"
Ygraine looks less than convinced by most of that - but does crack a swift smile, nodding to the last part. "It's quite a lot. This place isn't easy to look after, I know. And the supply runs out here aren't as frequent as I'd like, even at the best of times. But… isolation's meant to be part of its strength…."
A slight pause, then she cocks her head. "And… how're the others, who're here with you?"
Sable's lips tilt in a half smile and she dips her head towards Jupiter and Misty, who have reconvened before the fire. "They look t' be warm 'n' happy," she says, "'N' that accounts f'r th' whole 'f who's here at th' moment. Squattin's somethin' I got some practice at, so so far, so good. Folks start showin' up, mebbe be a little bit 'f a test t' my, like, competence, eh?"
That does draw a surprised look from Ygraine, who's too startled to even remember to reassure Sable about her people skills. "Jupiter's with neither her nor Judah? Good grief", she says, sounding rather worried… and trusting Sable to know which her might be meant. "I… hope that he's enjoying his stay here, at least…."
People skills meaning what, precisely? Conning them out of some hard earned change? Sure, Sable can do that. Keeping tabs on a mass of weary, scared refugees, keeping order outside the law? Maybe you should check her CV again. "I keep 'em busy, 'n' they keep me busy, so it works out decent," Sable says, shrugging, "figure that's close 'nuff t' enjoyable as hounds need." The whistle of the kettle interjects, and Sable slips off of the chair and lopes into the kitchen. When she returns, its with two mug of what appear to be very dark instant coffee. She offers one of the steaming cups to Ygraine. "Got condense milk 'n' sugar back in th' kitchen. C'n grab it for y', if y' like."
Shaking her head, Ygraine cracks a grateful smile. "Black'll be fine, thanks", she assures Sable, reaching out to accept the mug - before hastily retracting her hand and stripping off the filthy glove. Now able to fit her fingers through the handle, she offers a sheepish look and belatedly accepts her drink.
"Thank you. This is very much appreciated", she says warmly. "So… how is his mistress, do you know?", she asks, nodding her head towards Jupiter. "I've not heard anything about her since it all hit the fan."
Sable settles back into her rocking chair, but doesn't commence the back and forth bob until she's sipped her coffee down to a safe level. This is a mistake she, unfortunately, had to make before learning to avoid. "Dunno," she admits, "been rough on everyone, all this, eh? 't least close t' everyone. Can't precisely say I been as hard done by as most, but f'r those it's been tough for it's been real tough, and I'd be lyin' if I said it weren't real tough on her."
Ygraine takes a careful sip of her own drink, before venturing a smile over it at Sable. "So you've seen her, then? That's good. I figured I'd probably have heard if she'd dropped off the face of the Earth again, but… it's all too often wise to check, where she's concerned. Not least because of the current situation…."
"Hell, y' jus' missed her," Sable says, gently starting up her rocking again, "was here 'til jus' yesterday. Be back, though, or such was th' plan. Never know how this shit changes on y', though. Whether due t' circumstance 'r temper, know what I mean? For now it's me 'n' th' hounds," a pause, "y'all didn't expect me, I figure? Weren't told I w's here?"
Ygraine shakes her head. "I had no idea who was out here. I figured that someone would be - it's too good a hiding-place to go unused, at a time like this, however cold it is…. But no, I'd not got a clue who I'd find. I've been dashing around a bit more than I'd expected, so I'm really losing track of who's where - even among the people I have seen recently."
"But if you were guessin'," Sable says, smile curling her lips, eyes just slightly narrowed, "thinkin' on who y' might find keepin' tabs on this here pile 'f bricks… I'm bettin' 'tweren't me y' would have guessed at. Am I right?"
Ygraine laughs, shaking her head. "No…. The last person I met out here was Pastor Joseph. And the first… that'd be a plant-specialist Evolved who used to run the place, if I remember right. It's… somewhere people have come for peace and quiet, in the past. And I admit that you generally don't seem the type for that."
"Peace, honey… peace I'm fine with," Sable says, and her mood seems to be thawing slowly in the warmth of Ygraine's company just as surely frozen mud on Ygraine's jacket is thawed by the heat of the fire. "Quiet though… could use a break from that, I'll admit," she wrinkles her nose, "m' music player ran out 'f juice jus' yesterday, so it's been quiet like I don't care f'r. Dogs likely sick 'f me singin' t' fill th' air."
Ygraine offers a slow, broad, and rather proud grin. "Then you'll be glad of one of the bits of kit I picked up. I'd've thought that more people in the Club'd be aware of such things, but it seems that a liking for weird gadgetry really is a British eccentricity…."
Taking a sip of her coffee, she grins again. "How'd you like an electrical power-source that you don't need to plug into the mains? That you can power up by sun - slowly, at the moment, I admit - or by hand? And that should run most portable appliances?"
"Hon," Sable says, with a smirk, "that ain't a British thing. Thass just a nerd thing." Hands pressed close against her cup, absorbing the warmth, she dips her head. "'n' whatever it is, sounds like somethin' I could go in f'r, that's f'r sure. What is this here wonderwhatsit y'r tryin' t' peddle t' me? Don' play 'round with me, lest I think yer tryin' to con me."
Ygraine laughs, shaking her head. "I provided one for the Island, and it was a big hit. Along with some other wind-up and solar-powered tech. Basically, you can generate electricity just by turning a crank - like a dynamo for lights on a bicycle, or whatever. I can give you something meant for camping and emergency situations - it's a little portable thingy that you can power-up by hand, and then plug anything you like into it. As long as you're willing to wind it up, it'll keep providing the juice. I think I've got a wind-up radio left, too, if you want to catch some live stations."
"I got a better notion," Sable says, smile creeping wider, "we fix up a treadmill t' this gizmo yer talkin' 'bout, make th' dogs here do somethin' besides lounge 'bout like th' lazy furballs they've think they got some right t' be," she glances down at Misty and Jupiter, who look quite fantastically lazy at just this moment, basking in the warm glow of the hearth, "whaddya think, eh, y' fleabitten mutts? Gonna put y' t' work. Everyone's gotta pull their weight." Reduced to teasing dogs. Sable really did need some company.
Ygraine giggles, smiling fondly at the lazy critters in question. "I'm afraid that I haven't quite managed to fit a treadmill onto the bike, as yet", she says apologetically. "But… I'm going to see if I can get a few more of the power sources and spread them around. They won't let you heat a building or the like, but they could be either useful - or life-saving, if we have another Winter like the last…"
"God forbid," Sable says, with a dourness of expression and a bleak irony of tone that seems antithetical to her usual bearing, "anythin' but a repeat 'f them days. Don't think I'd make it through 'nother freeze like that." She tips her mug back gulping the last of her coffee and leaning down and forward to set the mug on the ground. "How long y' plannin' on stayin'? Don't stick 'round on my account if y' got shit t' do. But don't run off faster than needs be if needs don't be.."
"There's no one expecting me to be anywhere in particular", Ygraine says thoughtfully. "Least, not as far as I can remember. So… if you'd fancy a chat, or just a hand around the place, I can stick around for a while. I'll need to go well before nightfall, to make sure I'm along that bitch of a road before the temperature drops and conditions get even worse. But that leaves a good bit of time yet."
Sable nods, "then y'all stay a bit," she says, "'s long as th' cold don't get y' too bad." Her lips purse, then flash in a smile. "Though, 'ccurs to me some way we both 'f us could keep warm."
"Oooh, yes", Ygraine agrees eagerly, taking another sip of her coffee, before adding - with an ostentatious display of innocence - "unloading the bike soon would be a good idea, wouldn't it?"
"Not what I had in mind, honey," Sable says, displaying a lack of innocence with a closely following level of ostentation, "I was thinkin' 'f somethin' a little more active. Somethin' t' really get th' blood flowin', th' heart pumpin'." She cracks her neck, and levels a gaze at Ygraine. "Been a while since we trained, hon. How 'bout we see how good I learned?"
Ygraine can't help but laugh, shaking her head as she smiles over her drink at Sable. "Coffee first, then we unload, then we risk breaking each other. Deal? You're right, though. I should have a word with Jaiden and see about pushing our classes again - especially on the Island, where some people seem kind of in need of burning off some steam…."
"One 'f many ways, hon," Sable intones, drawing herself up out of her chair and onto her feet, "jus' one 'f many ways." She sets he hands on her hips and leans over to one side, already starting to stretch, to limber up. A small frown passes over her features, though. "Y'all know th' date, hon?" she asks, like maybe she has an appointment that she's forgetting.
Ygraine blinks in surprise at the question, but clearly has to think about it herself. "Errmmm… the eight, I think?" A heart-beat, then she flashses a smile and adds, "of December, twenty-ten. In case you've been involved in more time travel shenanigans…."
Sable looks stricken. "Oh shit…" she says, and it really is as if she's forgotten something, something big, "fuck fuck fuck, how's it I'm all th' way out here? I should be over at th' Park," her cursing, her abuse, is all self directed, ashamed, "all th' way out here like some idjit, fuckin' chasin'…" she cuts herself off, pounding a clenched fist against her forehead, "goddamn it, I should be in Strawberry Fields."
For her part, Ygraine looks genuinely worried by Sable's response. "Bollocks", she manages after a few moments of hasty thought. "I can't take over here from you - I've got to make some more checks and deliveries. But I can give you a lift into the city, at the least. Would you be coming back here afterwards, or would I need to find someone to take over from you?"
"I'll come back, sure, I'll come back," Sable says, hurriedly, and she sounds almost a little pleading, as if she needs to excuse her misstep, whatever it is, to Ygraine, "if that ain't too much trouble. I mean… I mean, I don't gotta go, I guess," she gives a wan smile, "there's nowhere I c'n be that ain't where I'm meant t' be, after all. But if y' could, if y' would… yeah. I'd be f'rever in yer debt, hon."
Ygraine chuckles, shaking her head. "It's okay. You can share in the spine-shortening experience provided by that road, if you want to. But… do we need to leave now? Or should we unload stuff first? How urgently d'you need to be there?"
"Naw, naw, no great rush," Sable says, shaking her head, seeming considerably relieved already, if a still a little off balance, "le's get our work done, eh, then I'll…" a shaky, "I'll hold on real tight as y' take me t' where I'm headed, real heroic-like."
Ygraine cracks a broad, swift grin. "So… do I get to find out whom it is I'm taking you to see?", she asks, openly curious and somewhat playful - still savouring her coffee for as long as she gets to stay indoors with it.
Sable arches her brows, her own smile not entirely beaming, tinged with a something else. "Y'll figure it out pretty quick, we get close t' th' place," she says, playing coy it would seem, in reply to Ygraine's own playfulness, "but we shouldn't waste no time. Y'all finish up yer coffee - I'll get started on whatall y' brought with y'." And she doesn't, in fact, waste any time, heading at once for the door.
A low whistle draws Sable's attention - and Ygraine tosses her a small ring of keys. "You'll need those", she says with a smile. "Take the left-hand pannier. Left as you'd sit on the bike. I think most of the stuff in there, you can have. And I'll sort out the power-supply for you as soon as I've polished off this. Then we can be on our way."
Sable's catch is deft, the keys snagged by nimble fingers, the yellow eyed girl having to pause only briefly. She's almost out to the door when she turns, gives Ygraine a smile that is too soft to be called a grin, but has a grin's warmth. "Thanks, hon. Like y' don't even know."
Head cocked, Ygraine watches the doorway for a few moments after Sable's disappeared through it. Then she chuckles, shakes her head, and sets about finishing off her coffee with rather more speed than she had hoped to have to commit to it.
In fairly short order, she's stomping back outside to help with the unloading (and to ensure that nothing meant for elsewhere gets left here), securing her gloves and the collar of her jacket as she hunches her shoulders into the cold.