In the short amount of time that Rene had redirected Rosaria's attention in conversation, she was so incredibly frazzled that she had all but forgotten about Bel'sian, and had noticed nothing more than the Kalderi was not injured. As she moved forward to try to attend to Solae as she had been instructed to do, she was surprised and startled as the taller female approached and crouched next to the unconscious woman. A few minutes ago the star-crossed lover had been to terrified to do anything more than than panic. Something inside Bel'sian had clicked, however, though she was not sure what. It could have been the subconscious recognition she was the responsible adult that should be contributing to their escape, the courage she had deep inside her that was so unusual for her race, the outpouring of empathy for someone who had let themselves be harmed to save her, or self-preservation instinct that urged her to act rather than react. Regardless of what was the specific catalyst, she was significantly more calm and composed, focusing on what problems could be solved than those that could not.

"I will help," she said firmly.

Rosaria was in no position to reject her offer. The teenager was stronger than some others her age, but Thorne had not exactly been grooming her for physical labor of this variety, and they would need both strategy and brute force to pull the duchess free of the muck. There was also a comfort in knowing she was not alone in her endeavor. Bel'sian was a stranger, and of a foreign species, yet a sense of camaraderie as they united against the natural disaster was universal. Anecdotally predator and prey would work together at times of peril to increase their chances of success. That two bipedal humanoids could find common ground when buried under an ocean of sludge was a rather predictable outcome.

"He said we need to [i]carefully[/i] dig her free," the adolescent pointed out as she sat on her knees and tried to figure out the best way to approach her task.

"I will start on this side," Bel'sian said with a gesture. Seeing that Rosaria was overwhelmed, she continued to explain her train of thought. "We will move it slowly from her legs, and when we can see more then we will pull the rest of the way." Her Imperial common was admirable for an individual that had such minimal contact with the civilization. Bouradine had told her that she was fluent, lavishing her with praise, encouraging her to build up her vocabulary, but she was finding it difficult to communicate clearly what she wanted to convey.

As they raked back the thick earthen ooze with their fingers it became abundantly clear this would be a highly unpleasant chore. Not only was it sticking to their hands in clumps, the pair worked in nearly total darkness, the radiant light from the bits of technology they carried the only illumination. There was enough air trapped in the space with them they were not in immediate danger of suffocation but already their frayed nerves made it feel stale. That they carried was a testament to their mental fortitude and determination. The dim, confining vicinity would have made it all too easy to fall into utter despair. Quietly and diligently they scooped away the debris, making the 'wall' of mud that had fallen on Solae's legs shift precariously. When this occurred they would pause, watch for signs of trouble, and wait to make certain it was stable before cautiously continuing. The slide had come to a stop, giving them the small advantage that their sanctuary wouldn't flood with a new wave rolling down into the valley.

"Who were you talking to?" Bel'sian inquired, tossing a handful of the sludge to the side where she was making a small pile. She didn't want to draw attention to the fact that both legs were undoubtedly injured from the weight on top of them. Neither she nor Rosaria could render effective first aid and to dwell on it could be detrimental to their time constraint.

"Oh, I was talking to Rene," the girl answered, furtively trying to clean gunk off the diplomat's trousers.

"That is her... soldier? Bodyguard?" Bel'sian asked, trying to find the right words. The concept of a political attache was a bit beyond her. The Kalderi civilization had leaders, warriors, mediators, and orators that did not necessarily intersect with all the functions they performed. Bouradine had tried to briefly explain the empress, the dukes and duchesses, the lower nobility, and all the varying careers when she probed him for information on humanity. It was such chaos to her that she wasn't quite certain if it scared her or impressed her that anyone could assume so many roles, or that that independent members of a society could have such synergy without selfless devotion to community.

"Yeah, something like that," Rosaria shrugged, "but he's mostly upset because she's his fiance."

"Fi-ahhh...?" Bel'sian trailed off as she attempted to recreate the syllables and recall the order in which they were used. Somehow it felt like an even more peculiar string of sounds than the rest of humanity's common tongue, as if it didn't quite belong with the overall rhythm.

"Fiance. They are going to get married," she said as she squinted at the winged being opposite her. "I guess you probably have a different word for it. Dasin and Yarue just call them 'mates.' For us you find someone you love, you ask them if they want to be with you, and then if you want to be together forever, you have a ceremony where you make it all official and make promises to each other out loud." It sounded a little more ridiculous the more she elaborated. The Syshin had been disgusted when there was an off-hand comment that having a 'mate' in human society was not actually binding until death, and that either spouse could sever the bond, finding someone else or choosing to be alone. Seeing their visceral reaction helped her appreciate how poorly the same news might be received if she tried to present it to the Kalderi. Solae wanted to make a good impression; she wasn't about to stick her figurative foot in her mouth and ruin it by admitting how worthless a wedding was to her, or how irrelevant it could be to the average layperson. Thorne laughed at the fools swearing undying affection.

"And are Dasin and Yarue other human soldiers?" Bel'sian postulated as she cleared off one of the linguist's knees fully. Her feet would give them resistance if they tried to tug her free, but she was increasingly confident they would be able to haul the blonde to the far corner of their chamber in a few moments' time, barring another crisis.

"No, they're aliens- Syshin. You'll see. Solae isn't like other people- other humans I mean. She cares about [i]everyone[/i]," Rosaria told her, her voice faltering as she was pulled back into the reality of how she could have been buried under several feet of rubble, crushed or suffocated in seconds, and how someone who talked directly to the empress and gained her blessing pushed her out of the way without a second thought.

"We will pull now," the Kalderi decided unilaterally. "Do like I do," she instructed as she hooked her long, slender fingers under the shoulder. Yanking on the arms would be more effort and risk further harm, whereas in the crevice between torso and limb was secure. Wiping away an errant tear, and nodding numbly, Rosaria followed suit and they very delicately dragged the aristocrat out of the mire. The grunts and groans they made as they strained to tow her the last few inches echoed in their cavern. On two sides there were stone walls and a ceiling remained partially intact overhead, the edges of which disappeared into a brown slope. Had the upper levels been destroyed all three of them would have been killed by the deceptively dangerous soil avalanche.

"Can I talk to this... Rene?" Bel'sian politely requested as she sat on the floor, sliding the noblewoman to the corner to the best of her ability.

Knitting her brows together in confusion, Rosaria hesitated, perplexed why the odd adventuring painter would need direct contact. After a pause she plucked the communicator off her shirt and handed it over as well as the matching earpiece. She wanted to have a more sophisticated transponder but she was a lanky adolescent not yet finished with puberty, so Solae was hesitant to fabric something that might need to be replaced if she hit another growth spurt. "If you want to," she consented in her typical, moody, feigning-detachment tone.

"Can you show me how to turn it on?" The connection was made silently as the moody juvenile made an appropriate activating gesture. "Ah, thank you. We have freed the Solae," Bel'sian announced with her heavy accent on particular consonants that were drawn out in her own language. "Her legs are damaged, and she hit her head when she fell, but she does not have wounds to the other parts of her body. There is... blood you call it, but there is not so much. Kalderi would put a flat... I do not know the word, under the legs. When you find us, I think she will need something flat to put under her legs or we could make it worse. We are now in the corner," she added once the trio had retreated as much was possible. Rosaria had pulled her mentor's head into her lap in a rare moment of tender vulnerability.