There it is. Jean's smile does not change; their expression does not flicker.

"There is a warrior and an artist whose road is like mine, shadowed and cold. She seeks to leave her former path and make a new one, of her own will and at great effort, into unknown lands where there is warmth and laughter. I see the distance between my road and hers, and would like to move mine closer, to hold her up when she falls. I do not think you know her; she answers to Fever, the killing intent of the body that seeks to cleanse itself of impurity."