Lydia's expression falls when Matt says he hasn't heard. He's new, so of course he hasn't, but Lydia doesn't like the idea of being the bearer of bad news all that much. She rolls onto her back and stares up at nothing in particular. "There's an Anti-Specials group. They don't want us here," she starts. "They think that we're stepping on their toes and we don't belong. And they're violent," she says, the last part coming out more softly than she means it to.

Taking a deep breath and sighing, she lolls her head to the side on the pillow so that she can look over at Matt. "Just be careful, okay? They don't like picking on someone their own size," she says, frowning, feeling a bit on the guilty side for implying a direct comparison between Matt's disability and Lydia's stature, but in this particular instance, she thinks it might actually be merited.

At Matt's playful jab, Lydia lets out an incredulous laugh. "Yeah, right," she says back. "I'll trade you snow for psychotic werewolves and homicidal lizards any day."