Find. Hunt. No farm, but then, maybe it's too early for that (it's never too early, she thinks, remembering the dust of her mother's selection and long hours trying to keep the vegetable garden fruitful.)
"There are weapons to hunt with? Rifles, shotguns? Or just traps?"
Do they have to make the traps, or are there some around? She doesn't ask that, not straight away. It's the next question.
The inn itself is... An inn. But it feels empty, dusty. It lacks the warmth of the owners and many patrons. But it's a solid-looking building and Cougar is already moving to start a fire. It helps keep her moving.
"I'll find a room and be back down. Put on some dry things."
Which is easier said then done.
She finds a room, finds some towels, but the chance to change out of her clothes and pull on the ones in the pack lets her examine what, exactly, her captors have put her into. And Catherine Ada Kelly is not impressed.
No drawers. No stays. Instead, she has these tiny fitted garments hugging her chest and her bottom. Instead of proper drawers, the white garments look like the seat of some trousers closely cropped in. And the - she doesn't even know what to call it. But it has a clasp on the back, adjustable straps.
It's all better than nothing, but still. She does not really approve.
There's also no comb, no brush, she knows after such a dunking her curly hair is going to be in a right state. Nothing for it, though. She pulls on the dry pair of the not-really-drawers and the top-part-of-stays (with some fumbling of the clasp on the later), pulls on the thicker socks and the flannel undershirt, then the blue, cotton overalls. Not that she can appear like this. Or, she won't, not if she has a choice. So towel in hand to keep drying her hair, when she emerges again she's wearing the black coat over it all. Buttoned up.
no subject
"There are weapons to hunt with? Rifles, shotguns? Or just traps?"
Do they have to make the traps, or are there some around? She doesn't ask that, not straight away. It's the next question.
The inn itself is... An inn. But it feels empty, dusty. It lacks the warmth of the owners and many patrons. But it's a solid-looking building and Cougar is already moving to start a fire. It helps keep her moving.
"I'll find a room and be back down. Put on some dry things."
Which is easier said then done.
She finds a room, finds some towels, but the chance to change out of her clothes and pull on the ones in the pack lets her examine what, exactly, her captors have put her into. And Catherine Ada Kelly is not impressed.
No drawers. No stays. Instead, she has these tiny fitted garments hugging her chest and her bottom. Instead of proper drawers, the white garments look like the seat of some trousers closely cropped in. And the - she doesn't even know what to call it. But it has a clasp on the back, adjustable straps.
It's all better than nothing, but still. She does not really approve.
There's also no comb, no brush, she knows after such a dunking her curly hair is going to be in a right state. Nothing for it, though. She pulls on the dry pair of the not-really-drawers and the top-part-of-stays (with some fumbling of the clasp on the later), pulls on the thicker socks and the flannel undershirt, then the blue, cotton overalls. Not that she can appear like this. Or, she won't, not if she has a choice. So towel in hand to keep drying her hair, when she emerges again she's wearing the black coat over it all. Buttoned up.
It's all the best she can manage.