Sydney coughs as water sloshes into her mouth. It's so cold it hurts her teeth. They're in Hudson's Bay in November – not early enough in the year to be at the worst temperature, but definitely not warm. Honestly, she'd much rather be in the department store.

She's lost track of how long she's been treading water, holding Nigel above the surface so he doesn't drown, but it has to have been well over an hour. At least. In optimal conditions she can tread water for hours, something she tested just for the hell of it; she loved seeing the physical feats her body could accomplish.

While she's treading, she decides that the next time someone asks her to travel somewhere cold, she's going to refuse. She hates the cold, hates the wet, and this is the worst of both. Even the trip to the Antarctic didn't feel this numbing cold even as she had been trapped outside. At least then she had been dry.

Her legs and arms are so sore, and worse, they're growing numb in the cold. Experimentally she wriggles her toes in her boots, and her fingers. The constant movement the only thing stopping her from seizing up entirely. With that thought comes a new worry about Nigel who hasn't been moving this entire time. She desperately hopes he'll be okay, but with each passing minute it's less and less likely.

There hasn't been a passing boat that she's been able to see, and there's no land in sight. She knows they were forced off the boat they hired east of Akimiski Island and she wonders what's closer: the island, Quebec, or Ontario, and whether she should start swimming west, east, or south.

Nigel and their clothing are weighing her down and it's getting harder for her to keep their mouths above the water line. Even so, she's more successful with Nigel than herself, having tipped his head back onto her shoulder. In an emergency they're supposed to stay still, but that really doesn't feel like much of an option. If she starts to swim, it'll decrease her energy at a rapid pace. She doesn't much like either of her options.

The sun is gradually falling behind her, and with it the all ready cold water will get even colder and she'll lose her main source of direction, although she knows enough to navigate by stars – she had spent several weeks on a ship with her dad and had spent a lot of time with the captain as her dad had played around with some specs for the dam he was engineering – she doesn't want to be in that predicament.

When she gets out of here, she's going to bury herself under every blanket she owns and stay there for a week.

She coughs again as water tickles the back of her throat. Her limbs feel heavy, and she knows she's going to cramp soon. When she does, it'll be over for the both of them. Her hands clench involuntarily at the thought of Nigel drowning because she had dragged him out here and wasn't strong enough to save him. Sydney forces herself to relax her hands – she needs them open; one hand is keeping them afloat while the other keeps Nigel close to her and ensures that his head remains in the tipped back position she has it in.

Her decision is ultimately made for her as she considers her limits, and she begins to swim west, hoping that she'll either come across a boat, or reach the island or Ontario before her strength gives out and the water claims them both.