Echo doesn't mind feeling useless. It's better than trying to help dig the bus out of the snow, or go on a hike, or something that would tire her out before they even got to the chalet.

She's practicing her sword fighting technique in the aisle at the back of the bus with a satisfyingly smooth branch she found this morning and has been carrying around with her. "Jean-Marie Lefebvre," she begins with a pronounced French accent, "is a Purple Mountains Majesty type, I think."

No idea who that is, but she's sure it'll look great on them.