The first thing Sirin does upon waking is bring her hands up to her headdress. It was there, fastened to her head, full, unbroken, uncracked. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be grateful or disappointed, but surely any damage done to the helmet would be damage done to her. Sirin gets herself up to her feet with a huff and dusts off her blue dress before getting a look at her surroundings. It was... it was somewhere. [i]Different[/i]. It wasn't a Scarlet Chorus camp, so that was a plus if nothing else. She walks forward with a downtempo pace, unsure about every corner.