Brenda's brow creased slightly; she wasn't aware of anything she'd said that might have constituted not giving Ash a break. Was "really taught him" an insult today, when she'd meant it as reassurance that the job had been thoroughly done? If not that, then what? And why was Rick being prickly, of all people? Even if she chalked it up to everyone, including herself, having had too little rest with too much on their minds, it didn't bode well for any kind of deep conversation.
But before she shared that thought, before she decided whether she should just leave, she had to know something. "So you talked to Tangek?" she asked Rick. "Saved me the trouble? How'd that go?"
The matter of educating Ash was something she could address after this if she stayed, or later in the day if she followed her gut and excused herself. And as much as Ash and Enya were diametrically opposite personalities, she knew they'd been growing on each other lately - Enya on Ash more so than the other way 'round; and, Brenda thought with an inward smile, she could talk about that pairing all day.
-:-
Ash had only intended to splash some cold water on her face, comb her hair and slip into some shorts - or maybe sweatpants, she thought, considering the weather. But she had the same problem now that she'd had after the airlift: All the "warms" were now at Hometree. And for people who wore "little bitty nothing" (as Enya would say), even shorts provided more insulation over the thighs than most Na'vi had ever needed. So she didn't have spare leggings, other than the ones she'd worn in-link yesterday, and those were getting borderline suspicious, if not yet funky... Where at all did Brenda do laundry?
Ash was only just coming to realise it now, after awakening to the presence of the frontierwoman this morning...but in her mind Brenda had become something like the gold standard by which Ash subconsciously measured herself. Brenda knew how to make it out there. Brenda knew more than Hell's Gate did about what a human could eat on Pandora, and what needed to be done to it to make it safe to do so. Brenda made crafts and clever inventions from things she found on the land. Brenda was strong; Brenda was sturdy. Brenda was an artist (well, she claimed it was Tall Brenda who drew those sky-maps, but Ash still found it difficult to believe that an Avatar not named Enya could have her own talents and interests). Brenda was a poet, if the way she described things was any indication. Brenda was most definitely a deep thinker, maybe even a philosopher. She knew impossibly more about driving than Ash ever would, even after eight years of watching and talking to other people who did it; even if she survived this crisis.
The only things Ash did better than Brenda were physical anthropology and labwork, neither of which Brenda had any use for. No, the Armenian astronomer had come out here and offered herself, her knowledge and her resources for nothing more than an extra filter pack and a look at Enya asleep. She'd gotten a lot more out of that first visit than she'd asked for - a place for Tall Brenda to heal; a spot for the B-shack on the other side of the quad; and plenty of Enya. Well, at least Ash didn't have to envy her for that...but how she envied her for almost everything else!
But this was the shape of Ash's life right now. She'd done and told and said more than anybody wanted her to. Now it was her turn to sit quietly, to ask and watch and learn, to be humble and open and childlike. She didn't know if she could do it. She didn't think she had anything to offer, anything to share in exchange. But if an interval of discipleship was what it would take to not feel so damned superfluous whenever Brenda was around, then she'd be the most attentive pupil in all the history of mentoring...
~ Don't be silly, Ash. You don't have the temperament, the patience, or the will. ~
...No. She was not going to listen to any more negative self-talk. And if she found herself beset by it anyway, she would just take herself to the nearest warm body of water that had a source and an outlet and wash it away. This shower, for instance; it had a head and a drain... Yes...the shower would do just fine.
She stepped into the stall and got the thing going, then imagined herself becoming one with the steam in her air passages and the "tropic rain" running down her back.