Zoey had never been a person to sulk, so Rosalie's less-than-encouraging statement didn't keep her stuck in the mud for long. If anything, it let Zoey know that she needed to be putting greater effort in. That if she wanted Rosalie as a long-term addition to this adventure, Zoey needed to take the serious side of her lewd transmigration more ... well, seriously.
And she wanted that. To have Rosalie by her side for the extended future. A surprising amount. The reminder that Zoey couldn't, in fact, take that for granted had her looking at Rosalie in a new light. And Zoey had already had a high opinion to begin with.
Rosalie's companionship was the kind that had to be earned. Not as a prize, a reward, because that was a gross way to view it, but because effort deserved effort, goodness goodness, and so on, and Rosalie had gleaming qualities pouring from her in droves. Sure, she could be snippish, and she might be drowning in denial when it came to a few matters of the heart (in a less-than-appropriate sense of 'matters-of-the-heart'), but that was where Zoey's complaints ended, really.
They hacked their way through the stone and vine-infested interior of the shard, slaying monsters, avoiding traps, and clearing rooms—armed with weapons, now, which did wonders for Rosalie's already-competent fighting skills—and eventually they emerged from the crumbling cathedral and out into a twilit forest.
Zoey had been briefly confused, wondering whether they'd escaped the shard, but Rosalie had shaken her head and explained plenty of shards progressed in aesthetics; they'd simply entered the next 'phase', for lack of a better word. They set off down a beaten footpath which winded between crooked trees. Leaves rustled in the wind, providing an ambience that was a nonsensical mix between eerie and calming. The breeze set a chill on her skin that gave the two of them a legitimate reason for wanting clothes, beyond modesty. Goosebumps were set prickling as they plodded down, seeking the exit of the shard. And presumably, whatever boss monster lay in wait, guarding it.
Zoey asked Rosalie how she knew which way to go, and she responded that she didn't, not for certain, but that the obvious paths were more often the correct one. Seeing how there was a whole pocket-dimension to explore, if that maxim hadn't held true, simply finding the boss would take an unreasonable amount of time. So, the dirt path that winded from the cathedral's entrance was the obvious candidate.
Rosalie's sharp senses noticed the sound of moving water before Zoey's did. She steered them off the path, taking a detour. They picked across felled logs and sunk their toes into the dark, moist loam of the forest—had it rained recently?—before bumping into their destination: a burbling hot springs which probably didn't make logical sense for its existence, but hey, incoherent pocket dimension, remember?
Steam wafted from the pool. At the edge—the deep end, it seemed—a waterfall pounded into the water, throwing up sprays of mist. Rosalie seemed especially happy to have been given an opportunity to clean herself off. Zoey considered asking whether it could be a trap, but Rosalie didn't seem concerned, and this wasn't like the vine situation; she trusted Rosalie knew what was going on.
Rosalie sank into the warm water, step by step, body quickly obscuring as she walked into the steam. Zoey followed after her. It was, unsurprisingly, hot. It took a second for her to adjust to the warmth, but once she had, the heated water coaxed out the exhaustion and tension from the previous several hours. She tossed handfuls of water into her face and hair, then scrubbed, working out the grime that had collected, then afterward, dug under her nails to clean those out, too. Rosalie was doing similar.
After the practical matters had been attended to, they simply relaxed. Rosalie waded out to underneath the waterfall and let the water pour over her. Zoey didn't think hot springs usually had waterfalls feeding them, but she'd seen, and would be seeing, a lot stranger in the coming ... god, how many years of her life? How long would she be here? In this world? She didn't want to mentally delve into those topics yet, so she shied away and let herself be distracted by more attention-grabbing matters.

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This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder than Expected (A Futa LitRPG)
FantasyLevels. Skills. Dungeons. As a nineteen year old living in modern society, these are terms Zoey is aware of. But had she ever expected to experience these videogame abstractions in the literal sense? To struggle through monster-infested realms, ea...