Cameron considers this, then, “If I lift you up an inch or two from the ground, I may be able to gauge your weight…” she offers; he doesn’t look very heavy, and she’s found over the past few weeks that she’s remarkably good at lifting heavy objects with ease. She guesses she must have done some intensive weight training before The Rift took her and wiped her memory.

“Or, if you would prefer to weigh yourself,” she glances around, looking for some scales, “Scales are usually put in bathrooms, correct? So that people can weigh themselves after washing, without their clothes adding anything extra that would give a false total.” Cameron nods in approval, “For accuracy, that seems the better option.”

“Where’s the nearest bathroom?” She hasn’t been in one since she arrived. She has noted that this is.. odd. Possibly. Though maybe it isn’t; she often forgets to eat or drink anything, and feels no worse for it, and when dirt smudges against her skin, it wipes off, doesn’t cling the way it maybe should do. Cameron hasn’t needed to find a bathroom. She decides not to mention this.