Right, of course it's not safe. Maketh grits her teeth and forces herself to stand upright. Her eyes are watering, jaw clenched tight against the curse she wants to hiss. Breathe. Grit your teeth and take it on the chin like a good soldier, there you go. She'd almost been an officer, one time. She knows what happens to dead weight.

"I can walk," she says, applying that tone of hard-edged certainty that she memorized from Governor Pryce. No questions, no backtalk. Whether or not she can run is another question, but one she doesn't feel like addressing right now. "Do you know a safe place?"