Sorra nodded and stated fixing the girl's clothes like she would for Ama every winter morning before they went out into the fields. The buttons were right this time, but she still had to open a few so she could get to the ties beneath, pulling each set tight enough to trap a layer of warm air but not so tight that they forced it all out. The girl was wearing truly bizarre clothing underneath, airy fabric with little stars, lighter even than what Sorra would have worn in high summer. Her hands looked smooth like a lady's.

Sorra's fingers stiffened as she worked, but she didn't put her gloves back on until she was done. She let the familiar work put thought out of her head, until the girl spoke again.

"There's no one down there," she said. "Most everyone was in the city for All Saints' Day. Those who weren't.... Well there was nothing left when I got back." It was strangely easy to say. Everything gone, and somehow she just felt calm.

Without an excuse to keep her hands and head busy, she pulled her gloves back on and pulled the sickle from her belt again. She shuffled a few steps back just in case, and waited.