[She doesn't answer in words... because there is more than enough reason around them to need the kerchief for it's more traditional uses, that she's no one to judge. But she ties her own under her hair, veil and coif to cover her mouth and nose.

She steels herself, taking a moment with eyes closed to find resolution out of the twisting of her gut, and starts walking again, back straight.]

You know... I didn't understand it, until now. ... Maybe I still don't.

But if fighting can [She hesitates, can a mistake like this actually be undone? Just wiped away? Even with time travel...] help this. Maybe, it's okay to be here.