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"Hey, Eden, come on. Wake up."
Blossoming tulips of a visceral aching spider-web through Eden's buzzing head. A vast army of goosebumps crawl across her skin, the bitterly cold world slowly creeping back to her. The only warmth to guide her from the darkness is the gentle hand brushing against her cheek, its touch leading her back to the light. The weight of the world drags her eyelids to a close, but, as the worry of their situation dawns upon her again, she combats its strength. And, as she forces her eyes open, the first sight bestowed upon her is the distinct glinting of a beskar helmet.
"You alright?" The modulated voice echoes mellifluously from his helmet, a spark of concern alight within his words. Swallowing down a groan of pain that aches to escape the confines of her throat, Eden offers a careful nod in response. With a shaky grasp, her hands trail down to the buckle of the belt entrapping her body, hastily releasing herself from its hold. Her head flaring with pain at even the subtlest movement, she carefully stumbles to her feet.
A gentle fleck of ice descends through the bitter air, landing barely upon the palm of Eden's hand, before it dissipates. But little time to dwell upon it is offered, for the soft groans of another slowly echo out from behind her. Casting her gaze aback, she discovers the frog-lady, sprawled across the floor, shivering violently. Her movements careful, Eden steps across the room and kneels beside her. As she helps her to her feet, the woman croaks in distress, to which Eden, with a purposely softened voice, reassures, "Hey, it's fine. We're gonna be fine. We'll find your eggs, don't worry."
"Gotta get some blankets, keep you both warm," Noting the frog-lady's whimpering, Din offers an additional fragment of reassurance. Stepping through the threshold out of the cockpit, — of which had been flung open in their crash, — he descends into the hull of the ship. Tracking his every movement, Eden is quick to follow; a gentle thud echoing amongst the cool air as her boots collide with the frosted metal ground.
A gaping hole consumes one side of the ship; fragments of shattered metal flung carelessly across the ground. Through the opening, a merciless draft rushes in, carrying flecks of snow into their only shelter. A beautifully dangerous symphony of sparks erupts around the bulk of the ship, sizzling with a vengeance. An annoyed murmur brushes against the lips of the Mandalorian as he observes the damage, however, within seconds, it becomes the least of their worries.
"Shit, where's the kid?" The exclamation ripples from Eden's tongue, bellowing amongst the winds. Her eyes are entrapped by the small confines of the bedding area; specifically, the child's hammock, which now remains empty. "Ad'ika, where are you?"
