[He holds her a little too long, breathing in the scent of her. It may be the Horizon, he may not really be able to bring her home to Winterfell, take her to the Godswood, make her his queen, but it feels real. She is solid and warm in his arms. When she pulls back and frames his face with her hands, he keeps her close.]

She's well enough. Resting now. Some took injuries on their way down -- spills, mostly -- but she did not.

Your people?

[His concern is genuine, but it is a pleasantry: two things at once. He cares how they are because they are people, and because she cares, but he also doesn't wish to spend too many of the few moments they have together speaking on it.]