[ Andy isn't thinking about days from now — the possibility of lingering effects, damage that her Scythian biology might not be able to just shake off. Her thoughts still seem a little sluggish, as if her mind had suddenly been forced out of hyperdrive, everything abruptly slowed down as reality sinks back in. Vaguely, she's aware that there's a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. Her ribs fucking ache from the force of her coughing fit. She's exhausted. It's his arm holding her up more than her own two legs.

But then she hears his voice, and the corner of her lips curves upward just so.

That's their Rex. A seasoned soldier — too good at what he does to give in to the temptation of relief until he's sure. Until he hears her answer. ]

...Afraid so, Captain. [ There's still a strained rasp to her voice, but she isn't actively trying to tear his throat out, so it seems like an honest reply, despite her wryness. ] But give me a minute to catch my breath and I'll chase you around the base again, if you want.