"Hello," Nyara says shyly, less put off by the hand covered in dried blood than one might expect. She's actually about twenty, but with her large eyes, fearful aspect, and just-coming-out-of-starvation thinness she comes across as younger. "She said that she knows you. I... my name is Nyara. You must have fought many of those creatures."

If Need had a physical presence and a body, Nyara wouldn't be hiding behind her, exactly, but she would have been looking to Need constantly for reassurance and might have taken her hand. Nyara is, frankly, overwhelmed. She's just come off the safest month and a half of her short life, living with Need in the wilderness. This is too many people, none of whom she knows and so all may be suspect, and too much noise and light. Need is showing her utter steadiness and calm, being a lifeline.