[Too easy, Chris. Too easy. Emily may be smirking a little as she drapes her jacket over the empty chair next to her. Steeling herself for a bit of extra pain (or discomfort at least), she pulls off her shirt, hissing a short stream of curses as the fabric that had been sticking to the bite tugs at the skin when it peels away.

This is a little less casual than wearing a two-piece to the beach, but it's not enough to faze her. Especially not when she shoots a glance at Chris, who is dutifully looking away.]

Okay. You can look. Not that you're going to see anything. Jesus. You know what a bra looks like, right?

[(Hers is beige, by the way. The lacy ones, alas, are still on the mountain.)

She rolls her eyes, listening and making all the right assumptions that his little explanation leads her to. She hates thinkin about it -- it was bad being lost in the mines, but she could walk, she had light, she wasn't really confined. Chris was--

Ugh, god. Fear sure as hell knew what he was doing.]

How long was it before they found you?

[She's kind of scared to hear the answer, which of course means she looks more annoyed than anything else.]