She took the medallion in hand, bringing it close to her nose to inspect. It was dirty, so she got a bit of cloth and rubbed it clean, then looked at it again. She twirled a bit of hair around her finger as she sat down in the chair, still inspecting the medallion. "It really seems familiar," she said, looking at it with a thoughtful frown. Her fingers traced the lettering gently, green eyes focused on it. "I just...I can't place where I know it from. I mean, obviously 'Artera' is from the poem, but I think I know that from something else. Maybe she's the patron saint of something? Or it's a town, or a shoreline?" She sighed and shook her head, putting the golden disc down. "This is frustrating."<br/><br/>She hated this. She was so close to remembering things, but it was all fuzzy. Sometimes she'd think she'd have it, but no. She could vaguely remember her parents, but she didn't even know their names. Had they died, or had she run away? Where were they? Where was she from? She didn't know. She wanted to know, very badly. She wanted to remember things that other people recalled with ease, and most of all she wanted to remember this poem. She sighed and ran her hands through her red, curly locks in frustration, making an aggravated noise.<br/><br/>The sea seemed to want her to get over herself, because they hit a sudden wave. Being unprepared for it, she tumbled out of the chair and landed on her rear. She yelped and half-pouted, staying on the ground with her legs sprawled. "Ouch..." Figured, didn't it? Get captured, roughed up, fight, get bandaged...then hurt yourself falling out of a chair.<span style="font-style: italic">Typical.</span>