The wind was killing her considering her lack of proper clothing. Phoenix had her arms wrapped around herself tightly and if they could find something to burn, she was going to keep very close to that flame. She settled on the ground and curled up, bracing herself against the cold. Why were ships so cold? The alcohol which was steadily getting lower in the bottle and more full in her veins was sort of helping but not enough. "Burn, burn, burn... Set me aflame if you can't find anything else."
It'd just add to the burn scars she already had. They weren't nearly as vast as a full body burn would be but her fingers were pretty bad off and there were a couple of small places on her stomach and back. Don't ask how they got there. They'd been there since long before she ever met Pyrrhus.