She is on a a nice walk in the woods, so at least nobody else is right there to be eaten by the snake and she osanwëd a warning to emergency services first.
So now she can worry entirely about where the fuck she is.
He gives it another few weeks and then requests to be reembodied again.
It is horrible. He finds himself once again in a state of desperate incoherent many-directional panic, shivering and trembling, and eventually his senses stop being horribly overwhelming and his skin stops being on fire but the panic doesn't go away, at all, he continues to jolt every few seconds as if something has gone horribly wrong and then slipped his memory, he continues to direct his body vaguely from a great distance and to find it enormously tempting to cast it off and float away and cease to be hurtable.
He doesn't kill himself. That would be rude. But he feels/watches himself shake and tremble on the ground and he hopes that he'll die of this and then they'll just have to give the whole thing up as a bad idea. People talk to him after a while but he doesn't have space in his head for them.
I have a magical artifact of dubious provenance which used to have a mind control feature. It would probably be delighted if it got enough of the feature back to help you and claims to know how to do that. I mention this only reluctantly and if you'd rather I never bring it up again I won't.
He supposedly coped while feeling like this for centuries. He had no choice, admittedly, but the point is that if it was possible then it ought to be possible now - he wraps fabric very tightly around his fingers, too tightly, so the pain is constant and thereby possible to think around instead of unpredictably crashing across him in jolts and waves of terror. He sees the use of the pilot-from-a-distance thing, now, lets him be far enough away from it all that he doesn't break down crying and fall apart. He builds the gap between his thoughts and his senses and experiences and body. He shores it up. He leans into it and wonders vaguely if the memories of Angband make this any worse or if all of the bad parts were carried through anyway, not really having been stored in memory.
And then he can parse questions. Uh, he says to that one. I don't - know you - I'm sorry -
Couple of months, though lots of it could be attributed to your physical injuries. Four months in you did a convincing impression of 'perfectly fine'. But, I mean - you had to - you don't now -
I do not have the faculties to evaluate anything about this situation and it is not clear that I will ever get them back - and this is without even remembering it -
Valar. Were you hoping it would? - you can die again, no one's going to be disappointed, you can wait until we have a better plan - or until you know Ambela -
She visits him once a month and tells him about the people she's bringing back to life and the planets she's terraforming and the history book her husband is writing a companion to because there's this parallel universe now and how happy the Dwarves are about interplanetary commerce and about her version of him's childhood and about the explaining things to Valar process.
And eventually - "if you're accurately representing your mindcontrol ring thing I don't mind if you try it."
"- all right. I'll see about getting exactly enough of it put back that I can be appropriately careful, in its original form it - was not a precision instrument."
And she talks to the ring about what it would need and why it needs those parts.
It needs the mindcontrol interface the glorious glorious mindcontrol interface she'll finally get to see it and maybe when she sees how pretty it is she'll realize that mindcontrol is great! That interface is the most automatic one, she'll know how to do the things she wants to do, there aren't safeguards per se but everything is reversible.
It would be good if there were safeguards. Perhaps they can discuss how to install or at least approximate safeguards. Mistakes being reversible is not really good enough, this is a friend's mind that needs to be comfier and not modeling clay.