Swamped

"Are you worried about Starling?" you ask.

She gives you another fierce look, then just shrugs.

"Nah. She's been sick before. Most of us have. She'll be okay, as long as she doesn't wander off again."

"Again?"

Rivers just grumbles.

"She just can't stay still. Can't help but go poking around in places she's not supposed to be. Usually she drags me along. We're good at not getting caught, but this really isn't the time or place to indulge her wanderlust. And I think she might be too sick to fully grasp that."

"So you are worried."

"Shut up."

"Sorry."

She glares at you silently for a while. You don't feel able to respond at all.

"Ugh. I know what this is about, Marshall. You want to talk about the good old days or whatever. Or you're wondering, what happened to that sweet, kind Sandra you used to know, how'd she turn into this bitter woman. Well, you can forget that. I left my past behind the day I joined the Marshguards. And I'm not interested in digging any part of it up."

You're not sure how you should respond to that.