"Good." Porrim huffs a breath. "Good." She dusts herself down, the backs of her hands covered in makeup swatches and obscuring her tattoos in places, and stands, offering a hand to Sam to help him up. Suddenly there's a lump in her throat and her chest is tight, and she's pretty sure if she talks to Sam any more about this she's going to get misty-eyed and make a fool out of herself. So she takes a deep breath.

"I should go. Check on my other charges, do some last-minute touch-ups." Quickly, without warning, she pulls Sam into a tight hug. "See you when you get back."