Christ, girl! You're going to freeze to death out here!

[Said by a red-head storming, full-force, right up to her as she's leaning against the wall. If Samara isn't quick, she's going to be grabbed by the arm and someone's going to start hustling her towards a nearby building. The person's got a suspicious air to her, and the smell of sulfur... or perhaps gunsmoke lingers faintly over her, but she's not leaving a soaked cat out here to freeze to death.]

let's at least get you into the welcome house. we'll figure out which one you belong in in a second.