[She knows this isn't typically how mortals feel during the winter, but gods, she's freezing. Her fingers feel as if they've completely stopped working, and even opening the drawers of a wrecked cabinet has her fumbling. Sheer force of will is the only thing that keeps her moving, searching, though her movements are stiff and almost mechanical. She cannot let either of them die out here. She will not.
Eventually, her luck holds: in the back of a cabinet is a set of old ice skates, the blades rusted, but one should do. She has to use both hands to pick it up, and moves towards the center of the room. This isn't the most ideal location for a fire, but they don't have any other options. She sags to her knees, dropping the skate briefly so she can use both hands to try and tear a few pieces of rotted wood from a nearby chair. All they need is a small pile--just enough to catch, just to warm their hands.]
Any rocks?
[She isn't sure she can get up again to find one.]
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Eventually, her luck holds: in the back of a cabinet is a set of old ice skates, the blades rusted, but one should do. She has to use both hands to pick it up, and moves towards the center of the room. This isn't the most ideal location for a fire, but they don't have any other options. She sags to her knees, dropping the skate briefly so she can use both hands to try and tear a few pieces of rotted wood from a nearby chair. All they need is a small pile--just enough to catch, just to warm their hands.]
Any rocks?
[She isn't sure she can get up again to find one.]