Alice slumps like her strings have been cut, the only lift left in her that which brings her hands up to her face to muffle her frustrated scream.

This is fine. This will be fine. Ignore the metaphorical glitches in the audio every time she mutters it to herself, propping up a sense of pride that's always been as cracked as her crumbling principles.

At least Sam will be safe from the worst of it. At least he can't go and get himself completely screwed, the way she just did.

She breathes in sharply and lets it out in a slow, shaky exhale. Okay. Okay. Put your pieces back together, Alice. You've got a sword to hide and a bunch of scared people to get back to herding.