[And she will! It's not as if it's been long since she felt grass beneath her fingers (gloved, though they may be), but each time the sensation feels... new. It's rewarding in its own right. She brings her knees to her chest, as she's seen girls on television do, and wraps her arms around them.]

Isn't this place strange? [It's more of musing than anything. Elizabeth, honestly, has nothing to say about strange. It's only something she's picked up from other arrivals, be they newer (arrived at the same time as her) or from months past.] A city that lives through the act of touching others, either in mere friendship or more intimate affairs... It is hard to believe such a thing could feasibly exist. It is almost as mind-boggling as a parlor trick or illusion.