Sounds a bit like someone else I know... He was always running across the land, giving his aid to whoever needed it.

[She's half-tempted to ask what nefarious evil America has to fight, but decides against it. She'd rather not her first face-to-face conversation in a while be a sad one.

(If only she knew.)

Dragging one of the cushions over to the fireplace, she perches herself on it, arms wrapped around her knees as she watches America work.]

Is it taking? I can look for more dry wood if it is necessary.