[ It's a checklist, as impersonal as that sounds. It's true. She has a set list of so-called broodmates, of whom two are fast asleep while two others are faring as well as expected under the circumstances, leaving a last illusive one to track down.
She dips into each tent with fastidious dedication and catches up to any alien hooded figures to see if their minds might connect like magnets snapping together. When she finally finds him, the taste of his thoughts too familiar for her to miss, she reaches to grab him by the arm, an old habit of manhandling those she thinks will let her get away with it -- and so many let her get away with it.
It's also a cheat, a defense mechanism, a brace to keep her walking despite ailing bones. ]
It's easier here to find places to smoke, isn't it?
[ for kavinsky ]