"Oh, Niska -- hi!" Brigitte's only relatively recently started putting time into the infirmary, and hasn't crossed paths with the blonde much yet, since Niska normally haunts the research in the back, nose buried in her work. But Brigitte recognises her from the party anyway, and brightens at the sight of her. (Light grey is only the slightest shade off from white, after all.)

"And... yes, actually. I've been collecting some cloth scraps for bandages," she explains, lifting her armful of fabric and gesturing to it with her chin. "I was going to boil them here to clean them up, then dry and pack them away for future use. Want in?" Her smile's a little rueful. "I know it's just the most fun ever."

It isn't, really; it's tedious busywork, but at least it keeps one occupied.