Crashing chains interrupted her snicker. Her conscience perked and faced the outer cell in front of her where guards demanded them their silence. It was granted.

More of the guards were headed by the same passageway-- followed by quiet pitter-patter and jingling chain rings. They arrived, looking for some volunteers of a 'working party'. Grief consumed her for the moment. [i]"Better not involve the satisfaction of one's urges."[/i]

All of the men in her cell had joined. Perhaps they had something alotted in their minds that indicated her senses into joining them-- no matter the work. She brought herself up and followed after the frail man.