Getting out of the cold was refreshing, even in the helicopter they the cold crept in, but the constant groan of the heating system was a constant reminder of the ever-present threat of the Arctic outside. A reminder that nature was inevitable, and even machines degraded and withered with time. Ursula moved along with the others without much fanfare, mostly just glad to get away from the judgmental stares of the students.

Once they were shown their dorms, Ursula remained silent as the other girls spoke up. She was far more occupied, grabbing out her sketch pad and a set of charcoal pencils. She had hoped to capture the moment outside, above the arctic ocean, the tiny village, and the intimidating compound on the horizon. Already she could feel that image fading in her mind, and in her fever she utterly ignored the introductions, or at least seemed to as she remained iron set on the bag.

It seemed one of the other girls was particularly pedantic; that was the word that Ursula decided sounded most accurate. Her concerns were certainly understandable given the situation. Cult was not the word she would use, but neither was corporation. This room felt like an asylum to her, like a room with any real hazards removed, just missing the grippy socks. The other girl, Mags, as she called herself, offhandedly called it a ‘barracks’. With more and more of her attention focusing less on her art and more on the present company, she found herself absent-mindedly scribbling out drawings of the women in the room. [url=]Scribbles[/url] was certainly what she would call it. She was rusty after all. 

Once Mags left the room, defiantly, Ursula flopped back onto the bottom bunk, finally turning her face away from her drawing once she was thoroughly frustrated with her lack of muse. She turned to Ruth with a wry grin.

[color=royalblue]“I’m Ursula, by the way,”[/color] She added, before turning her attention back to her sketches for a moment longer, trying in vain to get Mag’s sloping forehead right. Her attention only shifted when shouting from outside occurred. Curious, she peered her head out the door to see a new lady, someone who wasn’t on the helicopter. The woman stood out because, unlike anyone she had seen so far, she was smiling. Her smile made Ursula frown, and her clearly rehearsed speech made her scowl. 

She patiently waited for the lady to leave; only then did she make her way out of the dorm room, giving a wave to Ruth as she did. Scanning the area, she saw a few of her fellow freshmen by a table tennis, well, table, and waved to them pensively, hoping to get a read on their willingness to speak with her.