Quite literally everyone in Tirion can hear her. 

They are, uh, concerned.

They are more concerned when they see her, hair loose, disheveled, in horrible pain -

- there are people who survived Angband, and that seems like an obvious guess for what happened here, somebody goes and gets one and asks, what do we do -

Don't sing, he says, back away, leave her alone, give her time.

They do that.

There's so much noise, and none of it makes sense... she doesn't know.. doesn't know anything, too overwhelmed.

Eventually, she notices that nobody's touched her yet. She has no idea how long it's been - could be five minutes, could be an hour. Probably they're just... on their way... to get her, to take her back... she panics all over again, and loses her train of thought in the fear and overload.

Eventually, she notices that she's had that thought before... a few times, in fact... what's taking them so long...

Eventually, she doesn't have enough energy left to keep panicking about a threat that's apparently not imminent, and she stops screaming and just lies there, curled up tightly, waiting.

Yep, continue to not do anything. 

If she gets up and starts walking around they'll hurt her when they find her, she's not going to do that.

They'll hurt her anyway, of course, but it'll be... later, less, safer, if she's just as passive as possible.

After a few hours she opens her eyes. It's bright; it hurts, but she's still far too overloaded for that to register - though when she goes to reach for her power, out of habit, to use her hearing to help make sense of what she sees, that does, and she gasps and screws her eyes shut again and whines, under her breath where no one should be able to hear it. A few minutes later she tries again, more carefully.

They're just routing everybody around those few blocks. No one has any idea how she got there - might ask a Vala about that, but right now she won't want to go near a Vala. It's as likely as not she'll refuse food until she starves. He hasn't pointed this out to people, but he doesn't think any of them will insist they try to prevent that. 

The unfamiliar and overly-decorated architecture is disorienting, but there are no person-sized things moving around; she's probably alone. That's either very good news - maybe she was just wrong about there being people here when she arrived? - or very, very bad news, if she frightened them enough to evacuate.

It's a city - she thinks, she's still having trouble making sense of things, but those seem to be buildings, this isn't asphalt or concrete she's lying on but it's not grass, either - so the first option isn't too plausible. The second one isn't, either, with how long it's been, but of the two it seems more likely.

Can she move? If it's the second thing... if she's sitting, quietly... there's really no way for it to go well, once they come for her, but sitting quietly, looking normal... helps, sometimes. If she can.

Her first attempt fails. Too tense, too tired, too overloaded. But she's gotten better at this, in the months since her escape; she closes her eyes and pays attention to each of her limbs in turn, wiggling her toes, subtly flexing her knees, and so on, until she's moved every part of each of them. Then she visualizes standing... realizes she did it wrong, tries again, pays close attention to the details... tries it for real. It's not graceful, and she nearly falls over again, but she manages.

One of the things she can see is probably a bench, but she doesn't have the wherewithal to figure out which one, right now. Instead she just goes for the nearest thing that's about the right height; it turns out to be the edge of a raised flowerbed. She sits carefully and waits.

Do you need anything?

She startles and pitches forward off the wall, barely misses breaking her nose on the cobblestones, and takes a sharp rap to the forehead instead. She lays there bonelessly for a few seconds, then curls up again and sobs.

Well, it'll be at least a week before she's in danger of starving. They can give her space at least until then.

She lays there crying for a while, and eventually falls asleep. Half a day later, she drifts back to consciousness; she immediately reaches for her power, and twitches with pain at the lack of it, and falls back asleep. Half an hour later, she awakens again, with the same result; it takes a dozen repetitions before she can bear the pain and stay awake. She tries to figure out where she is, and is still trying to figure it out when sleep claims her again after another half an hour.

Over the next few days her periods of wakefulness lengthen - an hour, three, four - with hours of sleep in between. She doesn't try to stand. She does, after a while, notice that she's painfully hungry, and over the course of a couple hours, get her backpack off and retrieve a granola bar from it; she manages to eat half, with shaking hands, before dropping it and falling asleep again.

Her ability to think, to understand the world around her, comes back slowly, but it does come back. She wakes up and sees that the building across from her is a shop, selling statuettes. She figures out what the road is - she's never heard of cobblestone before, but she works out the idea. She eats another granola bar; she's past feeling her hunger, but she knows it's been days, so she does. She still doesn't know what to make of the emptiness of the place, of the fact that no one has shown up to haul her back to the institution, to berate her for lying in the street, any of it. That feels like a problem but doesn't seem to be one she can solve, and exhaustion claims her every time she tries to think about it.

Eventually, she gets bored. She considers the impulse to get up and go do something warily, but it does seem to be the only way she's going to figure out what's going on here - not that she necessarily wants to know. She compromises by levering herself up into a sitting position - she's near enough to the flowerbed wall to lean on it, thankfully - and looking around.

The city is very bright and very pretty and, yes, deserted for a few streets around; there are people passing in the distance. There are fountains. The other stores are selling ceramics, parchment, fabrics. 

Well.

Wherever she is, it's certainly not the sort of place someone like her is supposed to be, even supervised, which makes it all the more baffling that nothing's been done about her yet.

She takes inventory of her pack: nothing's missing, and packing her tablet and bowl and sunglasses wrapped up in her spare clothes protected them when she fell; she puts the sunglasses on. She has a couple granola bars left, a little bit of beef jerky, some trail mix and packaged cookies (crushed, but still edible), a few days' worth of instant rice and mashed potatoes, and a couple bottles of water; food will be an urgent problem soon, but it's not an emergency just yet. She takes stock of her physical state, and then eats the last of the jerky and drinks some water. While she's waiting to get her strength back, she looks around more: Is there any route that seems like a way out of this bizarrely calm upperclass tourist trap? How about one without any people?

There's no obvious road out, let alone one without people; every direction has people once she goes a few blocks. 

Okay.

Well.

She can stay here and eventually starve, or she can not do that. Put that way it's a pretty obvious choice. If one or the other would get her sent back, that'd make it an even more obvious one, but surely they'll eventually come for her even if she stays. She pulls her pack on and gets moving, slowly and gracelessly at first but with more fluidity as she gets back into the rhythm of it.

The people leave her a berth, but less of one. There are vendors presumably selling food. 

It's noisier with people closer, and she's not going to be able to stand it long, but maybe she can find her way out before she gets to that point. She keeps going, ignoring the people around her as best she can.

It's a big city. 

So she's discovering.

She notices herself getting too overwhelmed to function early enough in the process that she's able to find a little alley to collapse in. She curls up in a ball again and cries, quietly, in pain and frustration.

...they still can't think of anything better to do than letting her be. Someone tries walking by with a glass of water and plate of food, setting them down, leaving.

She goes still and tense and quiet when they get close enough for her to notice, and stays that way for a long while afterward.

Well, yes. Ex-prisoners of Angband are known to do that. She still seems to prefer not to starve to death so they're going to have to get her food somehow.

She would probably appreciate the effort if she were in a mental state where that was even remotely possible.

She comes back to her senses, a little, after a while. Doesn't uncurl; something smells delicious and she's so hungry but she has no way of knowing where it is and presumably can't have it anyway; she's just going to stay here. She'll wait for night and try again, that sounds like a plan. It can't be very long, right? She's been awake - or, well, close enough - for a while now.

Several hours later she looks up at the sky and is very, very confused.

The sky is silvery and just as bright as before!

Yes. What the fuck.

The sky provides no answers.