It's not immediately obvious who she's addressing, when the figure is struggling out of a sopping wet robe, so dark that the yellow is turning a murky brown, but the sounds of struggle inside it suggest a deep voice, and when a head eventually pops out: it's a man, with deep stress lines across his gaunt face, water-dark hair plastered down flat, and his head turns towards Shaw with a deep scowl - but his pale brown eyes don't meet hers, as they flick across the area.

"Who-- a-are you--" His accent is English but tempered, and he swallows thickly. "I-I, I don't know- I've got no idea where we are."

He didn't even know it was a we until she spoke.