Tromp tromp tromp.  She's building up quite the mental catalog of kinds of demon, although presumably infinite demons means there's also infinite kinds... she gets distracted from the story of That Time A Bunch Of Vescavors Got In trying to figure out whether that actually follows, gives up and concludes that anyway there are a finite number of demons and therefore a finite number of kinds currently here.

Fort!  Hello best fort she missed you.  She'll flop against the gateyard wall and close her eyes until somebody comes to Detect whether they've brought any Fiendish Presences.

No Fiendish Presences here. In they go.

Does anyone need her for anything right now because if not she is just going to go sit in the mess for a bit.

That's a good place to sit, on the assumption that she's hungry after hiking for hours.

She's actually going to take a while to remember that food exists and she should eat some and that will probably help, but then she'll collect One Unit Of Stew, yeah.

It's actually 7/8 Unit Of Stew because there is some unclarity about supply but it's pretty close.

True, although if the rations are calibrated for a grown man with a physical job she's not especially hampered by this.  Nom nom stew.

Proooobably she shouldn't spend the last couple hours of Endure sitting around in the mess hall, as tempting as it is.  Are there any classes on like bird identification or how to get down a snow-covered hill without falling or whatever on the schedule?  

She can get in on a class about making emergency snow shelters if she hurries!

Ughhhhhhh hurrying sounds like More Walking she is not injured and not five and not going to whine about it.  She'll go to the Snow House class.

Here's how you make a quinzee. Make your own quinzee now.

Pile pile pile stomp stomp stomp this was a terrible idea dig dig at least it's using different muscles.  And snow turns out to be fascinating as a construction material, texture like dry sand and sticking to itself even more than clay and going kkkchchch like a skein of embroidery silk when you squeeze it.  She gets it big enough for proof of concept before the Endure wears off and she's reminded that snow is also so fucking cold augh and flees back indoors.

Txell's on Prestidigitating snow off people on their way in and waves.

"Hiya."  She flops down next to Txell.  "Fifteen is so bad."

"Huh, I wouldn't say that. Eighteen are the real dickheads."

"Huh."  Thaaaaat's not promising.  "Perhaps I insulted them by accident?  But no one wished to trade spells with me.  And they didn't ask about the cisten until we were in the middle of departing."

"That's them being stupid, not assholes."

Shrug.  "In fairness I also forgot about the cisten, but it's their cisten."  She starts Prestidigitating the melting snow off her clothes.  "If the other forts are likewise I may need to repay you in some other fashion."

"With all the many exciting activities and resources available to us here on the frigid cocktip of nowhere I'm sure you'll think of something."

She giggles.  "I should offer to trade for all your dishes shifts, if you dislike them, but I may be elsewhere more than here, at this rate."

"Yeah, that's the way to bet. Eleven already has a cleric but he insists on sharing."

"It's definitely the good choice to keep the demons in, but I could wish it had less walking."

"Can you ride a horse?"

"Yes, though I've more practice with camels.  I, um-" breathe, focus, assemble the sentence.  She's trusted Txell this far, no point in chickening out now.  "Ferrer said we may be assigned horses in the future, but I- fear I am uncertain of the difference of 'valuable' and 'important'."

"...well, you're not important like in command of anything, if that's what you mean? What's it got to do with horses?"

"I should hope not, I'd be very bad at it.  I thank you for recommending Lloris, on that matter.  But, to the horses,  Ferrer said we may have them when I'm important, to travel faster?"