"Five days." ... on no food, very little sleep, it would be a miracle she's still on her feet except for whose genes she has. She's gone longer in the past, could keep going. It's not necessary anymore and anyway, she's starting to get tired.

She pulls back far enough to scrutinize him -- there are no injuries that she can see and nothing smells off, no blood. That doesn't mean anything. There are more ways people can be hurt than with their bodies.

"You have been gone for four months." She's not sure if time here passes the same as it does outside, but it's been four months for her. She pauses. "Paris was two years ago."