She'd asked about him a few times when she woke up. Always just missed him. But today, since nobody is around, she's awake. Sitting in bed, surrounding her, scattered across the sheets are dozens of malformed attempts at folded paper snowflakes, all of them aborted and haphazard.

She looks up from her latest attempt, her tired face animating slightly in surprise.

"Perce..." The paper slips from her fingers so she can reach out to him.