[ dorothy's backpack is filled with everything she could get her hands on that could be used for first aid and when frank rounds everyone up and talks about poisonous plants the first evening, dorothy takes the opportunity to mention that she's a nurse, that if anyone's feeling odd or is hurt in any way, they should let her know.

so for the entirety of the trip, she's here for all your first aid needs, your stomach aches that might be bad food or might just be fear and anything else that might ail you. ]

[ in the evening of day four, dorothy is quiet — not because she has to be, not because quiet has become a necessity, but because of everything she's seen today. everything they've seen today. so many of their party are kids or teenagers.

she wishes none of them would have had to see that. she wishes none of them were in a world where this is the sort of thing to be seen outside of horror movies. she's taken some video and she plays it back before going to sleep, jaw clenched. if she shivers, it isn't because of the evening breeze. ]

[ it gets colder, so before dorothy sits down by the fire for some of that whiskey — which she feels she definitely needs and deserves, thank you mayor hot dog — she makes a round to check that everyone's dressed warmly enough.

mother hen? nonsense. she's just applying some preventative health care, all right? ]