Shaken is a good term for her; there's a faint shake to her, even now. A fine hum of tension and nerves that makes her thin fingers tremble a little as she stands there.

Kate wants to go to bed. She wants to curl up in Benedict's safe embrace, rest her head against his chest and be lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart. But she'd heard what had happened to the schoolhouse, heard of the injuries, heard that wailing energy, and she's not sure where is safe. But that's not the main reason why she's still here. No, the main reason is that she refuses to be seen as having been chased off. The way Mr Graves - no, wasn't it, Director Graves - so easily assumed that he could lead has unsettled her, set aflame a bit of pique and stubbornness. This is her community, and she won't run off like an upset little girl after some excitement got the better of her.

Barton gets a quick smile, wan and polite. "I'm uninjured, unlike some of our companions. It's nothing but a fright."

Her fingers dig into her clothes, her left into the fabric bunched at her right elbow while her right fingers clutch at her skirt.