"Cheerful. That's exactly what it is," Daemon agreed in a mild tone, all amusement completely hidden as he watched his father get comfortable, a lazy light in his golden eyes. He looked completely at ease, but anyone that knew him would be well aware that the slight glances about the bus and at the patients and staff were more than just idle curiosity.

"Not since last night, after the fight, which was interrupted by dawn," he replied, shaking his head. "At least there's one less feline about the place. But yes, she was upset. She... Do you remember how Tersa would get frustrated when she'd force herself too hard to be understood, or like others? River gets that way too, sometimes. She calls herself a broken teacup, a sword, a weapon. When one of the other aspects of herself comes out - especially in front of others - I think she frightens herself, or fears others reactions to her."