Stavanger Bay while I pondered, weak and weary

Saskia's mouth formed a thin line as she perused the damage, her ears briefly falling back upon her head. It wasn't her home - or, well, it had just become her home, and she had no real connection to it yet - but she still felt mournful for the situation. It must have been a harrowing experience to brave the storm; then to find their home in ruins like this... She gave a soft sigh.

"A thrall," The girl returned to the first topic, not wanting to linger too long on the obvious deformity of the lands, "I think it means I'm his slave. Or a servant. I don't really know... It is a weird word." She nodded lightly, glumly, and then began to stride along among the debris. "Charon agreed to rescue me from the weather if I agreed to be his thrall." It wasn't ideal, but she would make it work.