She was in a trance—the same trance which had sustained her day after day at the rock farm. The irony of using skills which she had learned on the run in order to escape from her prison was not lost on her; she wondered if she was the butt of some cosmic joke. A lifetime of highs and lows—each peak taller, and each valley lower—lent her the resilience she needed to take one more step, then one more, then one more.