Yuri collapsed backwards in the middle of making herself a clumsy attempt at omerice. She was saved from a nasty head bump only by the presence of Borg, who shielded the fall squishily.

As she dreamed, she experienced emotions she had rarely felt before. Trudging the wilderness without fear. A happy reunion with his (?) brother. Tired comradery. A brave kind of conviction, a vow of protection.

She felt almost, for a moment, as if she'd been abruptly transported to a boy's manga, with its theme of hope and protection.

But no, this wasn't the naive optimism of heroes from comics. This was tired veterans, following hope that was fragile and nurtured by their shared presence.

Eventually she realized it was a dream, and pushed through the caul of it, emerging groggily into reality the same way she had after the Yellow Knife's attack.

Her omerice was badly burnt.