"You thank me for not drinking from you?" Eponine laughs, and shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. "You wish to help me? Madame, are you mad?"

She follows Nancy, her hands wrapped around her middle, hugging tight.

"I've been here perhaps a night? I don't know. It all begins to be the same, you know? It is queer when I have not eaten a while." It doesn't help that her last intake of blood was fae either: she'd been off her face on the cargo train from Calais.

"And you? You are from round here, aren't you? I hear it in your voice."