The warmth had come back, it had started to seem like little more than a memory, but it had come back, Cripa could almost feel her fingers again. Carefully she tried to open her eyes, some slight dusting of frost fell off her eyelids, otherwise she felt fine. She knew she wasn’t off course, she was aware that it was a trick of her mind, likewise she knew her fathers voice to be a trick of her mind, still she followed the instructions however dirty they were, and relieved herself over her hands and feet. It hurt, it hurt bad but she knew it was necessary. “keep moving girl.” The voice was close, so she struggled to her feet. “Moving,always moving” Onward she staggered, half delirious, through halls that were no halls, caves that couldn’t be.
Round another corner, up another slope, past a slow moving canal of half frozen slurry. For a moment she thought of kneeling down and drinking, but the water did not look particularly inviting, the colour seemed off, and the smell was horrid. So she kept going, ignoring her dry throat, ignoring the possibly dead water, round another corner, and into a bright corridor, the sudden brightness blinding her, causing her to drop low as she attempted to hide her eyes from the light. Not taking the floor lighting into account. Thankfully her world went dark shortly after, as she drifted into unconsciousness, only barely registering the blunt force trauma to her forehead, the trauma she unwittingly had caused herself. Likewise she only barely registered the footsteps that approached, thinking instead of her father. Would he be proud of her? Of how far she had made it?
She thought he would.
Sir Tor, one of the Knights tasked with exploring and where possible restoring the depths of the Camelot startled, and turned just in time to see a red skinned woman banging her face into the floor. Carefully he replaced the wall panel, taking his time to twist in the screws to lock it into place, it wouldn’t do to rush his job just so he could save a stranger, he would aid her, but he would not neglect his duty’s to do so. Still he reached her just as she faded out. Not that he was far from where she had decided to brain herself. With some care he placed her on her side, then remembering his basic first aid made sure her tongue wouldn’t get stuck in her throat. “Well I don’t know who you are, but darn did you do a bang up job knocking yourself out like that.” Sir Tor calmly sat down next to her. “Mild frostbite, but oh do you smell bad, guess you really want to keep your fingers.” He checked the current temperature.”Well, you won’t be freezing again, atmospheric control seems to have kicked back in, and we’re gradually climbing the temperature ladder to say ten degrees above freezing, girl did you ever pick a dumb place to nap.” He had never been known to be subtle, or polite, or indeed capable of maintaining a decent conversation, but doing reconnaissance, or repairing minor damage to switchboards, or resetting breaker switches, were well within the scope of his abilities. Now what was it one had to do with an unidentified humanoid, typically if they were hostile the answer was to shoot them until they weren’t anymore, but if they weren’t hostile what then? Sir Tor Sighed and went through his pouches, looking for one of his many etiquette leaflets, ah there it was. “How to deal with non hostile humanoids, a comprehensive guide, step one: Attempt to communicate.”This was going nowhere, fast.