River had sat herself down on one of the beds.  She’d said it for Pox’s sake, but she still couldn’t seem to shake the heaviness within her mind.  Almost unconsciously, she unfolded a wing and started preening, smoothing the coverts and trying to get some of the dirt out of her feathers.  Two of their group had gone to investigate the other room.  Hopefully they would find some useful supplies for when they made it out of here.  She was only half listening to Primalia and Pox’s conversation.

The clattering of a sword made River look up from her work.  Uriel had thrown his scavenged weapon on the table.  Nothing he was saying was really wrong; it was abundantly clear by this point that they were from vastly different places.  Shouting at each other would only make their situation worse, and Primalia had already told him off, but she still rose up from her seat, and put herself in between Uriel and the Little-One.

[color=6ecff6]“Honestly,”[/color] she said, [color=6ecff6]“He’s already explained that his speech has been hampered,”[/color] although he could be lying, but that was probably something that none of them wanted to even consider right now, [color=6ecff6]“and I’m sure we all have the same questions.”[/color]  These strange curses, the Corpse, River hadn’t even noticed until now that Primalia wasn’t a Human.  [color=6ecff6]“It’s frustrating being in the dark like this, but short of getting him some paper and ink, there’s only so much he can tell us right now.”[/color]