"If they're going to use us the way they say they are," Elsa says, gesticulating thoughtfully again, "then they will send us out there. That's when we can get a look around."

She looks at the door, and breathes out a sigh, her shoulders slumping.

"Until then," she says, giving a small, resigned, but not-so-heavy shrug, "all we can do is wait, and try to avoid attention. And the cake," she adds, just comfortable enough to add a touch of levity to the end.