There's gore coating Yelena's boots and the metal mesh gloves she'd repurposed from a kitchen supply store to serve as armor, and her leather jacket and pants are slick with slime. There are bruises beneath, and her right shoulder stings and throbs from contact with the caustic blood the walls had insisted on oozing right up until the last of the horrible lambs were destroyed.

She's intact, however, body and mind, and that's more than some of their comrades can say.

It's a shame the horrors of the warehouse don't burn. Fire would be cleansing, both for the land they stand on and for everyone's soul.

"I almost miss the pigs," she mutters darkly as she comes up alongside Winter. studying him sidelong to reassure herself that he is also intact, or at least not suffering any worse a blow than whatever had hit him upon entering the reeking incubation chamber.