[He's an old man with little enough chance of survival. Hollingworth knows himself to be the most intelligent individual in the field of play, but he also knows this to be a game of luck and brute strength. Even with the knowledge of survival - and he does have that knowledge effortlessly meticulously committed to memory - he lacks the practice and the force to put such skills to the test. His odds are poor and he's come to accept that.

But he has no intention of giving up, and that means using every advantage given to him. The first of which, it seems, is a tearful girl. Thankfully her distress is relatively quiet, though still far too loud for his liking, and Hollingworth wastes no time at all in grabbing the young lady around one frail wrist and pulling her sharply into the shade of the nearest tree. Poor cover indeed, but better than standing so plainly in the open. Oh, he is not designed for this sort of outdoorsmanship... nor for the comforting of frightened women, an entirely unexpected nuisance among all he has considered.]

Young miss, this will all be quite difficult enough without blind panic. If you hope to survive this experience, then for mercy's sake do calm yourself. I would have an ally out of you.