Aeryn stays conscious, but her thoughts are unfocused, her perception of what is happening around her atchy at best.  The barbaria picks her up like she herself would lift a child, she couldn't have stopped the, the elf even if she had been in top shape.  She lifts a feeble hand to point at the net-wrapped bundle of boxes and cases she and a handful of had frantically thrown together as the ship broke up, and where were the three people who had gone into the water with her?  The woman has spotted the bundle already and dragged it to a sheltered spot.  But Aeryn was feeling better, she knows that because she is starting to hurt like hell.  It takes bare heartbeats to realize that in her present condition, whatever was going to happen to her whether  help or harm would happen with no say from her in the matter at all.  She debates trying to hide the small caduceus mark  of a non-clerical healer tattooed on her sternum between and just above her breasts, but rejects it.  It would be revealed soon enough.  If the local priests have an issue with such as her - and they often do- she will ride it out.  Somehow.  She is fading again, but doesn't quite out.  She stops fighting it and rests quietly.