She's in a forest: the ground is rocky, muddy, and sloped; the trees and brush are familiar in general form if not in exact detail; the wildlife is quiet except for a squirrel scolding her from a nearby tree. The sun is fairly high, but the air is comfortably cool, with a gentle breeze. There's no sign of people.

She manages to keep standing. Phaidra blinks at the squirrel and says, "I am sorry." Is the squirrel close enough she could pet it?

Phaidra figures that - given what happened - she will likely need to be rescued by her family. Which can take a while. But surviving can't be that hard, right? She says while being distracted by the first furry creature, she sees in a completely different world. At least she has powers.

The squirrel is well over her head in a tree a good twenty feet away, and pauses his yelling to scurry to a higher branch when she spots him.

The other sounds of the forest begin to start up again around her.

Okay. Phaidra better find a place to stay while she waits.

Luckily, her gifts are good for this situation, she thinks. Her fathers' blood did grant many advantages for this. Being able to purify food and water, resistance to cold, and the ability to breath underwater while looking like a standard giant means she can do this. Probably. And she can learn things really fast as a gift too. Go being the daughter of a sea-serpent and a giant.

What to do first?

Well, looking for shelter? And food? She can make anything she eats not-dangerous, but not nutritional. She picks her way through the terrain, going down. Looking for a river. Being mindful of the foliage.

There's a small river at the bottom of the hill, and if she watches carefully for a little while she can spot fish swimming in it. She also passed a few berry bushes on the way down; it seems to be early in the season, but there was a bit of fruit on them and more ripening.

She will collect some berries and taste-testing them while eating by the small river. How small it's small, here? She takes a moment to carefully purify each berry, holding them up and seeing as her power drains/evaporates the toxins away from them.

The river is perhaps fifteen feet across and comes about halfway up her calves at its deepest; it'd be knee-deep to a baseline human.

The berries don't seem to be poisonous, and taste quite good, sweet and a little tart.

There's a flash of feathers and splash of water as a fishing-bird makes a catch a ways downriver of her.

Ooh, she takes a closer look at the fishing-bird, trying to be stealthy.

Which, is not easy, when you can be twice as tall as the average commoner.

It's either flown away or too well-camouflaged to be found.

Huh, does it show up again if she holds still for a moment and waits?

Nope.

Okay, she should get back to trying to survive. Phaidra follows the river, looking around for places that look like it could have people, or be a good shelter.

It doesn't take long for her to find signs of people; there are two fish traps built into the riverbanks some twenty minutes' walk downstream, made of an odd grey plasticy waxy material, and a path leading off into the woods from there - it's wide enough to accommodate her but she'll have to watch out for low branches.

Oooh, people! She is being mindful of low branches all the while, but at least the path means she doesn't have to think about the ground flora. She keeps her head down and goes through the path. Wondering how the not-giants (the branches wouldn't be so low) made the odd gray material.

After a few minutes, there are crow-calls overhead, and three of the birds alight on a branch ahead of her, apparently unafraid despite the alarm calls.

She knows, by no clear mechanism, that the center one is curious about her, that he doesn't think she belongs here and wants to know what she's doing here and why she's so big and why her clothes are so strange. One of the others adds that their flock has gone to get the person-like-her who lives here and there might be a fight if she doesn't go away.

"Wait, what?" She blinks upwards. "Hello?" She tentatively says. "I am not looking for a fight. I am just very lost."

They startle a little when she speaks and are now curious about the noises.

"Hiii?" She says slowly and with a low voice. "Are you telepathic?" Then she repeats the question mentally, trying to open her mind to telepathy.

They stare back at her. The one who hasn't 'spoken' yet preens the middle one.

The middle one sees her, not talking to him isn't going to let her hide from him.

She holds her hand up, offering berries. "Friend?"

The one on the left swoops over and takes the berries out of her hand on the wing.

She really should leave if she doesn't want a fight, the bird repeats. Especially if she can't talk. Is she hurt, that she can't talk? Maybe she's lost because she's hurt. They should show her the way, if she's lost.

The crow is finished with her berry by now, and flits to another branch farther along the trail: the rest of the group should follow, and the other crows do.

Phaidra will follow the helpful crow.  If the people here are that territorial and don't use words to talk. Maybe they are spirits? If there are people that would create crows that can communicate like that, it would be spirits...

The crows lead her along the path, soon coming to a spot where the path they're on is one fork of a larger one; they lead her down the other side of the fork.

There's cawing overhead, again. One of the crows flies out of sight in response; the other two start encouraging her along, repeating that she should follow them and that she's doing well.

She follows. What helpful crows. She repeats what they say to see if they learn that she is speaks with sounds.

It seems like they're too focused on getting her out to comment on the noises she's making.

Two crows join the two she's following, and they calm down a bit: the other person-like-her has been told that she's hurt and lost and leaving, and she's still upset that she was here but she's letting the crows handle it as long as she does leave.