Pen isn’t sure what exactly the noise is that she makes, even as she becomes aware of it leaving her mouth. It’s like a sigh, but higher pitched, as she stares at the little, empty sachet. Her body feels warm. Her insides feel so warm. The water that had before felt as if it were burning her, is now simply hot, but comfortably so. The air above its surface is still freezing, however, and she does her best to keep her shoulders beneath the water. The heavy jacket is soaked through and it weighs down on her body, but she leaves it on nonetheless and simply stares into the void.

What is this feeling? It is as if she were asleep. But she is awake. Yet no thoughts come to her mind. No anxieties. The water is hot. Her legs hurt. Her hands hurt. But the water is hot. She just feels… calm.

Pen’s fingers press down on the little empty sachet and it crinkles satisfyingly loudly beneath her hands. She isn’t sure why, but she lets out a small laugh at the sound and squeezes again. It crinkles again.

“Feel better now?” asks a voice from the side. Quickly her face turns to stone, the smile vanishes, as she looks over her shoulder, sliding the empty sachet a little to the side so that it can’t be taken from her. She stares at Tango and then looks away again.

“Yes,” is all she says and lowers her head beneath the hot water, letting it gently stream around herself as it flows off, vanishing into some nook of the pool where it sinks down deeper into the mountain. She exhales out the deep breath that was held in her lungs and simply floats there beneath the water for a time with her eyes open, staring at the empty sachet held in her hands. It’s so warm, it feels so peaceful down here, below the water. It reminds her of a feeling, an old feeling.

But then eventually her lungs burn and she rises back up, inhaling in a fresh gasp of steamy air. Looking downward, she sees a red trickle still leaving her leg. In fact there was a little more now than when she was out of the water. But she can at least see her foot again. All of the caked blood and dirt and gunk has been washed away by the hot water. Only the filthy rag bandage is still wrapped around her painfully aching leg. She’s thankful that it didn’t break. She would have been dead a long time ago if it had. She would have fallen to the bottom of the pit, just like her first crystal. Bubbles leave her mouth, as she blows in agitation just beneath the water.

“You need to check that,” says Tango.

“Huh?” She looks over to the giant standing next to her, knelt down and facing towards her again.

“There weren’t any medical supplies left there, right? Then you at least need to take that ‘bandage’ off and take out any dirt or crap that's in there.” Pen glares at him. That would hurt. She doesn’t want it to hurt anymore. Why shouldn’t she just leave it on? It’ll heal fine like this. “If it gets infected, I can’t help you. You’ll die out here for sure,” explains Tango.

She hates that he might conceivably have a point, though she isn’t quite too sure how it would become infected? She had covered the wound with a piece of her dress, isn’t that enough? Apparently not. She still had a lot to learn. Her ears twitch.

What else does he know? He’s strong, fast. But does he know things? She could sell things that he knows. She never had any before, but Pen knows that medicine sells for a lot of money. Maybe if he knows how to make some… some medicine from the first people…

The gears in her mind spin.

But she needs to be alive to sell it, or else he’d take her cut. Pen’s eyes narrow in suspicion at the giant who stares back idly.

Pulling herself to the side, there is a rock that is higher than the rest of them here. It’s still beneath the hot water, but high enough that she could sit on it and look at her leg. Gently touching the soaked bandage, she begins to undo the knot. It comes apart easily and she unwinds the thing. It’s stained deeply, not even the hot water here can remove this anymore. She flinches, it stings. Removing the last layer, she pulls the cloth off of her leg and looks at the front of her shin.

“Ahhhh!” says a troubled voice from next to her. Huh? She looks over to him. “Sorry, that’s pretty nasty,” says the giant man. She scratches her face and looks down at the front of her foot, just above the ankle where the metal had sliced in to meet the bone. There’s a deep, red cut along the front of her leg, a bit of white was visible beneath the thin layer of shredded skin. “I mean, I’m fine with blood and stuff. But that’s just gross.” He turns his head to the side to look away.

Huh?

She cocks her head. Bones? Looking back down, she stares at the spot where the water constantly washes away the little trickle of blood. It’s crusted shut well enough to hold in place. But she’s sure that if she ran a hand over the wet scabbing, that it would all slide off in an instant. She opts not to do that. Sure. There’s a little white down there to see, in-between. But everyone sees bones sometimes, don’t they? She had seen a lot of bones growing up. Bones that were visible in far wilder ways than this. Jagged, broken shards that stuck out of small bodies. That had never happened to her. She listened and behaved.

But maybe that was just a thing that happened to them. The ones who weren’t quiet.

Maybe other people don’t see bones regularly? Hmm. Maybe medicine isn’t his strong spot after all.

Wincing, she bends her toes; thankful that they can still move, even if only painfully. The soles of her small feet are shredded, riddled with cuts and bruises and missing large patches of skin, basically all the way around both of them. She wiggles her other foot. It responds too. The cold hadn’t taken either of them. It could have. But she got lucky this time. Apart from that, there seems to be nothing in the wound however and she rinses the bandage out beneath the wet, before gently putting the soaked thing over her leg again. It’s better than leaving it uncovered, right? She looks unsure, but Tango is still looking away, a hand before his face. What an odd sight. Can bots even get squeamish? Do they have stomachs?

Whatever. Pen yawns. The air is cold, but the water is so hot that her body feels like it is glowing. The jacket feels disgusting now though and she takes it off and swings it to the side. It flops against Tango’s arm and he looks back at the girl, who is now floating on her back, arms and legs spread, as she stares at the dark ceiling above themselves, one of her hands clutching the wall to her side. He follows her gaze, but there’s nothing up there to see, she was just staring. He picks up the jacket and looks at it.

“Huh, will you look at that?” says Tango, examining the jacket. “This stuff was terrible for the environment, you know? I guess that wasn’t really an issue in the end. Sturdy as all hell, though. Guess that’s why it’s still here. Still. A jacket is better than nothing. Some winter pants would have been good.”

Pen’s eyes shoot open wide in a sudden fear and she dives down beneath the water. She just realized something very spontaneously. Did he see? She reaches behind herself, touching the fox’s tail that is still tucked in upwards against her back.

He didn’t. He couldn’t have. She’s been hiding it. But the heat and the water has made her careless.

She shoots up out of the water, grabbing fistfuls of it, only for it to escape between her fingers and throws what little she can manage towards the bot.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WATCHING ME?!” she yells. Tango instinctively raises his arm and blocks the water that she is splashing out from hitting his face.

“Huh? What? Ah, sorry. I guess this counts as a bath, doesn’t it?” The bot turns around again and now lowers himself down, as if sitting on the edge of the pool with his back towards her. She splashes another fistful of water at him and watches as it trickles down his large metal shoulders. “Awkward,” says the man.

“Shut up!” Pen dives beneath the water again, disappearing from this world for as long as she can hope to do. It’s perfect beneath the water. She wishes she could stay here forever. But it can’t last much longer. Her head is beginning to feel a little light. Light. Light? Light is yellow. Yellow? Her eyes shoot open wide again beneath the wet. YELLOW!

She launches herself upward a second time and grabs the stones next to her, reaching for the little yellow box that was in the sachet of food, which is now drifting just next to her. “Hey!” she shouts. “What’s this?”

“What’s wh-?” asks the man, beginning to turn his head around again.

“- DON’T LOOK!” yells Pen.

“Oh, uh, right,” he scratches his face with a finger. “Uh, that’s probably some electrolyte powder. Maybe some dehydrated carb-gel or something.”

“What?”

“It’s a drink. Just put in some water, like before.”

A drink? Her eyes are wide and unblinking. Like water? She is surrounded by water, why did she need to put water into a drink? She doesn’t understand, but opens the package and does as he instructed. There is a yellow powder inside that is pale and coarse. She sniffs it, it smells sweet. Taking a cupped hand of water, she mixes it in and shakes it gently and then sniffs it again, before taking a sip.

“PLACH~!” she shouts, her face scrunched tightly together in horrified disgust, her eyes barely open, as her facial muscles react to the violently tangy, sourness, as she spits it back out. Tango turns around to look at the noise.

“Oh, looks like you got the lemonade. Lucky. Everyone always wanted that o-“

She hurls the yellow thing at him and it smashes square in his face. “STOP LOOKING!” she yells, frustrated.

The juice box slides down the visor of his eyes and plops to the stones next to him.

“Rude,” says the bot. “But fair, I guess. Sorry. I keep forgetting. Privacy is weird for me like this.” He turns back around. Pen had enough, she wanted to get out. Pulling herself towards him, she grabs the hatch.

“I’m getting in.”

“Uh, not like that you’re not,” says the man, waving the back of his hand at her. Though he does not turn around this time.

“Huh?” she asks, somewhat confused.

“You’re soaked, you’re either gonna electrocute me or yourself if you get inside and touch any of the wires.”

“Electrahque? What’s that?”

“You need to dry off before you come in,” explains the man plainly.

“Huh?” Pen looks around the empty cave. “With what?”

“Good question,” responds the giant. “A little water is fine, it’s not like I’m not full of old blood anyways now. But too much might short-circuit something important,” explains Tango, placing her jacket on his shoulder to dry off.

“Short-circus?” she asks, still not understanding. Was he abandoning her here? Was he planning on selling her to a circus?! She steps back, narrowing her eyes.

“Short- ah, it’s bad if I get too wet inside, okay? A little is fine, but if you’re dripping wet, then it’s dangerous.”

Pen understands his explanation on a surface level and believes it, though she still doesn’t get exactly how or why it is dangerous. But this would be an oddly specific thing to lie about, wouldn’t it be? Her eyes narrow and her ears twitch. She looks at the silver foil in her hand that she took with her, trying to come up with an idea.

“Maybe you can just open the hatch and sit outside, the warmth from the rad-frag should dry you off fast enough,” suggests Tango.

That sounded reasonable enough. But it bothers her that he said it. It’s another idea of his. What about her ideas? Her ear twitches as she comes up with a plan.

Pen climbs up out of the water and quickly grabs the hatch to pull it back open. A wave of heat rushes against her, different from that of the steamy heat of the water. This is a dry, sterile heat that also feels oddly nice as it rushes past her meager body, only to be enveloped and swallowed by the arctic chill that permeates all around them.

The little bauble turns to face her, as she is crawling inside.

“Ah, no! Stop! Don’t come in!” yells Tango at Pen, who is doing exactly that. Pen reaches upwards and wraps the wet silver foil around the glass eye. The foil crumples as she presses it down firmly against the glass bauble, but it sticks there on its own, blocking his sight of her. “Hey!” protests Tango, now turning his head around, but not moving for fear of crushing the girl behind him.

“STOP LOOKING!” yells Pen, one final time, as the soggy dress hits him in the face and slides downward, to fall onto his other shoulder. With an up-nosed ‘hmpf’ she shakes as much of the water out of her wet hair and tail as she can before closing the hatch behind herself. Tango turns his head back forward to look at the clothes hanging off of his body, as if he were a laundry line and then looks downward, his visor looking at the sealed compartment of his own chest, where she was nesting herself inside of, like a parasite.

Tango sighs. “Man. It’s a good thing the psyche-eval team isn't around anymore. They’d have a field day with this.”

Pen has no idea what he is talking about. She sits there inside of the warm cabin and lets the radiating heat dry her aching body, as she leans back against the seat, her eyes fall heavy almost immediately, now that she is warm, fed and sheltered for the first time in a long time.

Darkness comes to her within seconds, as she mumbles a last thing to the man; her fading words asking him to leave the lights on as the hum of machinery surrounds her.