"Yep, yep," she's managed to roll herself onto her side, torso propped up on a pile of blankets so she's not upside-down. Half of her is spitefully enjoying her third re-read of Knight School, and the other half is definitely not eating her feelings out of a bag marked Cappuccino-flavoured Crisps.

Oh, it's the fox-guy. One of them. The one that didn't raise an army of the dead, anyway. Good thing he survived! Great work. She pats another section of bed-floor with a spare leg.

"Way comfier than they'll be in the city, I bet."