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It had taken nearly a week for Siddie to feel steady enough to go anywhere other than classes, her room, or Sammy's room. She didn't like to think too hard about the nightmare that had been that disastrous field trip, but from time to time a thought intruded that she couldn't shake, or that she didn't want to. Much of it had receded to fog and terror in her head, but she remembered faces, at least; Tybalt, who she hadn't seen since, and Carthusia, who'd found out that -

Siddie's hands shook a little, and she gripped the cuffs of her sleeves to make them stop. She was in front of the demon dorm now, and while she knew the layout well enough, was no longer intimidated by the thought of going inside, she had realized, abruptly, that she had no idea what room belonged to Carry. She stared up at the facade, her mind spinning in little circles.

A corrividus glided past overhead; this wouldn't ordinarily have caught her attention, but this one was purple. Momentarily startled out of her nervousness, she watched it vanish into a window. ... Wait ... Hadn't Carry said something about having a purple corri? Siddie took another look at the window in question, then headed inside to find the room.

A couple of minutes later, she tapped on a door that she hoped belonged to Carry, and stood waiting for an answer, trying not to fidget.

"I just - wanted to see if you were okay," Siddie said, and clutched the skeleton kitten doll she carried more closely to her. Now she felt awkward. "I'm, if I'm interrupting you I can go away," she added. What had she been thinking? It looked like she'd gotten Carry up from a nap or something.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she glanced past Carry to see the purple corri settling itself on the windowsill. Oh, good. She'd guessed right about that, at least. Siddie hoped that the unusual mini was a comfort to Carry, much as Tox was to her, even if he was a grumpy little thing.

Siddie's shoulders slumped ever so slightly with relief. Carry wasn't upset that she'd come. Thank badness. "Thank you," she squeaked, and hesitated only a moment before entering the room and sitting down on the desk chair, patting her fluffy skirts absently into order. She held still so the purple corri could have a good look at her, leaning her cheek a little into the soft floof of feathers. "Hi," she told it softly.

Carry wasn't okay, despite what she said; Siddie could see that plainly. But it was just as plain that she didn't really want to talk about it. That was ... well, kind of a relief, really. They could talk about stupid, normal things and not about that. "I think I caught it too," she replied, ducking her head slightly so that her bangs hid her eyes. "I've been feeling pretty bad the last week or so. Just tired. You know. Not doing things." Her fingers worried at the lace of her cuffs.

"I know, right? I haven't been very hungry. If I lose any more weight my bodices won't fit," Siddie said, the light tone in her voice a little forced too. She was usually pretty good at hiding her true moods, but she'd gotten ... lazy, gotten soft, hadn't kept her walls up like she normally did. The thought distressed her. What was she going to do when she went home again and Ebby and Umbra started in on her again?

She smiled more genuinely at the bird in her lap and stroked Amethyst's backfeathers. "She's so sweet," she said. "She's really pretty, too. I don't think I've ever seen a purple one before."

Siddie nodded. "My kind do, anyway," she answered. "We're solid and have mass and weight. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to wear nice things." She accepted the carton and spoon with a smile, and giggled a little at the demoness's comment. "Oh, we can't have that," she said. "Thank you."

She took a bite of eye scream while she thought about how to answer the question - oh, that was good, and now that she thought about it, she hadn't eaten today, had she? Better not say so. It might make Carry worry, or scold her. "Bad dreams," she said softly. "I guess I just needed to see for myself that you were here." She offered Carry a little smile. "And I wanted to talk to you when we weren't - stressed."

Siddie smiled weakly at Carry. Now she was making the other ghoul worry, and that wasn't good. "About - about being lost, mostly," she said. "It sounds stupid when I say it, but ... I keep dreaming I'm lost in the fog, and I'm all alone, and it feels like I'll never find my way out and be alone forever ... " Her voice wavered and broke, and she put the spoon down to drag her sleeve across her eyes. "I'm sorry. Sorry."

She looked up to meet Carry's eyes, even though her own near-invisible eyes were still trembling with suppressed tears. "I - thank you," she said, and put the eye scream carton aside on the desk. "Could I brush your hair?" she asked on impulse, not quite sure why; only Carry looked so worn and lost and tired, and her beautiful hair was all rumpled, and Siddie always felt a little better when she was properly well dressed and done up. It was why she was so dolled up now, after all.

"I'm very glad for Sammy," Siddie said quietly. "She's - she's helped a lot." Sammy was good at making her smile, at getting her to laugh even when she didn't really feel like it; the zombie ghoul was so different from Siddie, but seemed to understand her so well sometimes. "I'm glad you're here and okay," Siddie told Carry. "I'm not very good at making friends. It's nice." She felt a little pang of guilt; was she sounding fake? Overwrought? She wasn't trying to be fake. She had mimicked attachment before, and sometimes did still, but she genuinely liked Carry.

She carefully dislodged Amethyst from her lap. "Sorry," she said to the bird, "but I'm going to get up." Once Amethyst had moved, Siddie went over to climb onto the bed, picking up the brush. "I know I don't have to," she said, a little shy again. "I just want to." She arranged herself behind Carry and began to carefully tend to the demon ghoul's hair, gently working through tangles and brushing it back to sleek smoothness.

"It's not your fault," she said. "I believe you. I know you didn't know either." She separated out a thin lock of hair and began to braid it back, the familiar motions soothing her. "I think Sammy does too. We haven't really - talked about it much. But once she's your friend, she's your friend."

Siddie giggled a little, shakily. "I was paired with him for an exercise in Etiquette class. He offered some suggestions, but it seemed terribly exhausting, so I did the place setting." She'd been mildly annoyed at the time, but it was amusing now. She felt sort of sorry for anyone who got paired with Barth for a more active assignment.

"It's hard not to worry," she agreed softly. "I always feel like people are looking at me, when I'm anywhere." She took up a second lock of hair, beginning to weave it into the first; when she finished, Carry would have a net of thin braids woven across the back of her head and joined into one. "I can't not think about what people think. That makes it ... difficult, sometimes." Sammy didn't worry about what people thought. She just did things. Siddie envied that self-assurance sometimes.