"So you are still here," a familiar voice says from the deeper shadows by the tent. He almost sounds disapproving, but as he rarely puts that much emotion into his words, it's no easy feat to tell. Childermass steps out into better view, out into the light. With how much black he wears, he may as well have been a shadow himself until that point.

The smell of burning tobacco follows him as he walks over. Since leaving the tent himself, he's lit up his pipe and, for the moment, holds it to one side so he's free to speak without the bit in the way.

"Hello again, Miss Elizabeth."