As the others roused, Feliks did as well. Groaning softly to himself, he didn't dare yet speak. Instead he moved the spit on his tongue, licking the inside of his cheek, behind his teeth, and around the front. He didn't seem to have any food around there, and his mouth tasted as normal as it could.
He moved slowly, but deliberately, pinching his arm next to see how fast it sprung back. They couldn't have been out too long, otherwise the effects of dehydration would start settling in a little more. Let the others decide what happened in the past, he was going to look into the future.
He took stock of what he knew, which was very little of the current situation. He pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time it had on it, before taking stock of what was around him. In a few moments he nods a little. "Yes. We'll need to hurry." he says simply.
I might not be a Scholar, but I'm one skillful bastard.
Knowledge (Local) (1d20+8)
Knowledge (Nature) (1d20+8)