The height is rather the point, Greta thinks. Either they'd wake, or the setting would be forced to change just to keep them 'alive.' Both options sound better than the current scenario in which they seem to be stuck.
Climbing over the sill would be difficult in her current state, though, and she's not sure she ought to ask for the Balladeer's help with something so morbid. She grimaces for reasons unrelated to the pain in her side. "Do you think it would? If all we're doing is just sitting here--"
And then, as if out of spite, the setting changes. She's no longer sitting on a hospital bed, but on a couch. At least, she thinks it's a couch. She's too distracted by what's happened to her to pay much attention to their surroundings. She's... she's yellow. And she doesn't have as many fingers as she ought to, and she looks strangely flat, as if she's been... what was that word Iman used?
Animated.
She looks up at the Balladeer, who is similarly hued and only barely recognizable. "Um." At least she still sounds like herself. "This is... different."
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Climbing over the sill would be difficult in her current state, though, and she's not sure she ought to ask for the Balladeer's help with something so morbid. She grimaces for reasons unrelated to the pain in her side. "Do you think it would? If all we're doing is just sitting here--"
And then, as if out of spite, the setting changes. She's no longer sitting on a hospital bed, but on a couch. At least, she thinks it's a couch. She's too distracted by what's happened to her to pay much attention to their surroundings. She's... she's yellow. And she doesn't have as many fingers as she ought to, and she looks strangely flat, as if she's been... what was that word Iman used?
Animated.
She looks up at the Balladeer, who is similarly hued and only barely recognizable. "Um." At least she still sounds like herself. "This is... different."