"Trusting to luck," she fires back with an arched eyebrow and the wry suggestion of a smile. Not to tempt fate, but between the wards and Sweeney's presence, she thinks the front porch is about as safe as it could be. Safe enough to risk a bit of fresh air and a bit of intelligence.

The smile manages to hold as she glances back towards the cottage, which currently guards everyone she cares for (or the ones who could be persuaded, at any rate). "They're as well as can be expected," she says, which is as optimistic as she dares to be. "We're all just... waiting for it to be over."

She turns back to Sweeney, her gaze sharpening in the dark. "What about out there?" she asks, waving a hand out at the city. "How bad is it?"