By the time she reaches the infirmary, the stain to her clothes is something that's impossible to hide. Her brow is furrowed and she stares at Brigitte from where she's trying to mask the wound, shifting a little and being grateful that it had only been a scrape and a bleed, not a puncture.

She could replace her fluid, but she didn't have the more complex parts and pieces if she'd been outright gored. She sees the precise moment that Brigitte sees the fluid.

There's no hiding this, not now. "I need to get to my house," she says sharply, because she'll need the replacement fluid she's received and a charge, just to ensure she doesn't shut down in the midst of it.