[ In such an impossible situation, the mind scrabbles to cling fast to whatever vestiges of logic that it possibly can. ...Even now, after all of the unnatural things that he has been witness to โ the creature, something unlike any natural beast yet documented on Earth โ Little tries to find reason. To hold fast to it.
If she's here, then it's by intention, although.... perhaps not her own. It's possible, perhaps, that she's some sort of hostage taken by the natives to this land...
(The only other option involves the woman being part of some... expedition of her own right, but that's almost wholly far-fetched a notion. Even if she's dressed very much like a crewman...)
His wide eyes follow every movement she gives, locked on with alarm and shock, sweeping down for that fleeting moment to catch the item clipped to her belt. A weapon? She's armed?
'I'm fine.' How can that possibly be? Yet the more she reveals, the more confusing it all only becomes. An accident, a request to use aโ communications tower, Sibril line...? Little's mouth parts, but can't quite seem to find the words. In contrast to his desperate struggle to find reasoning, he's met with the sensation that this all seems a dream. But then, one word snaps him back into a certain focus, and his eyes clear, sharpen with recogntion. ]
Your captain?
[ Then she must truly be... part of some crew. ....A rescue? With an almost pained shuddering jolt of his heart within its ribcage, the man adjusts the shotgun secured to his person, shoving it back further out of the way as he moves closer, draws himself in so that he can hear her better over the howl of wind. ]
What is the name of your vessel? Who is your captain?
[ More words come in a rush as he gestures quickly with one arm back behind himself, where his footprints have already been dusted over with a fresh coating of snow. ]
Our ships are just back this wayโ both of them, held fast in the ice. Terror has the worst of it, she's leaning badly, wood split in placesโ [ The woman must surely recognise the name of the ship, because this must be a rescue. It can't be anything else. Nothing else would make sense.
But she mentioned an accident and his heart's beating faster. ]
Your ship... how is its condition? Can it still be maneuvered?
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If she's here, then it's by intention, although.... perhaps not her own. It's possible, perhaps, that she's some sort of hostage taken by the natives to this land...
(The only other option involves the woman being part of some... expedition of her own right, but that's almost wholly far-fetched a notion. Even if she's dressed very much like a crewman...)
His wide eyes follow every movement she gives, locked on with alarm and shock, sweeping down for that fleeting moment to catch the item clipped to her belt. A weapon? She's armed?
'I'm fine.' How can that possibly be? Yet the more she reveals, the more confusing it all only becomes. An accident, a request to use aโ communications tower, Sibril line...? Little's mouth parts, but can't quite seem to find the words. In contrast to his desperate struggle to find reasoning, he's met with the sensation that this all seems a dream. But then, one word snaps him back into a certain focus, and his eyes clear, sharpen with recogntion. ]
Your captain?
[ Then she must truly be... part of some crew. ....A rescue? With an almost pained shuddering jolt of his heart within its ribcage, the man adjusts the shotgun secured to his person, shoving it back further out of the way as he moves closer, draws himself in so that he can hear her better over the howl of wind. ]
What is the name of your vessel? Who is your captain?
[ More words come in a rush as he gestures quickly with one arm back behind himself, where his footprints have already been dusted over with a fresh coating of snow. ]
Our ships are just back this wayโ both of them, held fast in the ice. Terror has the worst of it, she's leaning badly, wood split in placesโ [ The woman must surely recognise the name of the ship, because this must be a rescue. It can't be anything else. Nothing else would make sense.
But she mentioned an accident and his heart's beating faster. ]
Your ship... how is its condition? Can it still be maneuvered?