Brinn never moved, all night. Her breathing remained slow, steady and even. The ice seemed to continuously reform. Droplets began to trickle down the outer coating of ice, as the exposed layer melted, but the formation of ice were ever reforming under some form of guidance. The inside lid of the box that had been opened bore runic inscirptions in a thick, white, chalky substance. The runes almost seemed to glow, though that might have been a reflection of the morning light.<br/><br/>When something bumped into her, her eyelids fluttered slightly, but no other reaction was given. She was limp and unresponsive as she was shaken, head lolling to one side. Upon hearing the voice, her eyelids fluttered again and she turned her face toward the source. As if this single action were too much, she went limp once more.