[ In truth, Alayne does not expect Tommy to accept the offer of assistance. He is a grown man, a warrior of sorts by his own admission and rough about the edges (and unapologetic of that fact). And yet, somehow, he allows her to provide what meager portion of help she can offer. Her eyebrows lifts in genuine surprise before quieting down again, her expression smoothing.

As he steps out of the way, she fills the space left empty with both herself and her skirts. A quick re-estimation of the coolbox's contents later, Alayne is straightening again, another unmarked container held between her hands. She looks at Tommy over the held-open door for a moment before offering it to him. ]

We are all 'fine', then, when measured by such meager estimations. Just as there are degrees between bad and worse, there those that exist between fine and good.