Vittore eyed Percival warily, tracking the movement of his hands. A map. He had a map. Seemed terribly prepared for clawing his way out of a bloody pit, or however it was they all got there. Their mouth settled into a hard line, and before they could decide how to respond, if at all, the girl began swinging her cane. 
They flinched back hard like they’d been shocked, their heart kicking into high gear. She was loud. Energetic. Far too much, all together. Everything about her demeanor put them on edge, though they couldn’t say that the others put them more at ease. Just a group of disquieting people, as far as they could tell.
But that girl was demanding, and the man was curious, and keeping their mouth shut forever didn’t seem feasible. Besides, how much could that little bit of information hurt him? “Vittore,” they answered after a few long seconds, trying not to audibly grind their teeth.