[ this is not the first time annabeth has found herself in strange situations involving (presumed) rivers in the last few weeks, but it beats out the lava and the despair. ]

[ there's an instinct that compels her to fight back and immediately question - well, everything. but there is a bone-tired ache across her entire body too that leaves little room for the fighting itch in turn. as a demigod, she's not entirely unused to being whisked away on the whims of some higher power as a concept though, and perhaps that helps her go through the motions and allows the explanations, the transportation, the new fitted magic clothing; it turns her focus entirely on what this high mage tells her because she does not want to think about any alternatives. besides, the best way forward is, as always, to gather as much information as she can on the offset. she files it all away and thinks, at least this prison isn't killing me via the air itself. ]

[ annabeth moves through the north wing almost skittishly. every little sound draws her attention, and once in a while she reaches for her hip, where no hilt waits for her. there are semi-healed cuts and wounds across visible skin, and her curly hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail; the look is accentuated by deep, dark circles under her eyes. ]

[ she's used to sharing a cabin, so she's not terribly put out by the sight of four beds in one room. mostly she's just enamored by the concept of a bed. she can't remember the last time she slept on one. her grey eyes snap to whoever walks in the room as soon as they cross the threshold, and she watches them a little unnervingly. ]

Is one of these yours? [ her tone is a little gruff. she wants a goddamn nap. she is fresh out of tartarus and a little on edge. she deserves a nap at the very least! even the storm outside doesn't seem like too big a deterrent. ]

[ at some point, she finds herself in the library, if only for the comfort of being in one. even if she doesn't fall into reading any of the books, the atmosphere alone allows her to turn inward and try to mull over... everything. annabeth has a lot to process and a lot she doesn't want to think about in the same breath. the library is clearly the answer. she doesn't know this place, but she knows books. ]

[ she carries a handful of books through the shelves, but her attention is elsewhere, and she looks aimless. she's just thinking, a lot - the definition of lost in thought right now. she mindlessly puts a book back on the shelf for the sake of proving she's working, but it's in the wrong spot. lucky for her inherent instincts - she ducks at the last second as the book sails centimeters over her head and slams into the floor. ]

Di immortales! What the fuck? [ her bemusement is spat out in ancient greek. if someone explained to her about the auto-correction for misplaced books, she clearly was not listening. ]

[ annabeth is too restless, so wandering is the easiest habit to pick up in a castle. she has very little experiences in castles, but when she hears there are stables, she meanders her way there. at least horses are familiar, even if she's fairly positive none of these will be capable of flight. what she finds are animals just as antsy as she is, though she thinks she's doing a much better job of hiding it. ]

I don't suppose you've spoken to a dark haired boy who smells like the ocean? [ yes, she is asking the horse this question. the horse does not respond. ]

[ annabeth has not touched any of the magic to try and cast this supposed calming spell, and she's currently not in the mood to try. mostly she'd just... maybe had a small hope about coming to the stables and sought another element of comfort there. ]

[ but, with other company coming in, she straightens her posture and sizes them up as they come closer. ] Do you know how to do that calming spell?