"Hope takes breath when kindred tempers cast off qualms and hubris."
As dynamic as two conjoined streams, driving toward the distant sea, minds in concord free the channel clogs that masquerade reality. But what of us, cast adrift in this inscrutable world? It all comes down to who we are together and how we fasten life to truth.
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Piper wants to stop to ask if he'd managed to find anything useful, before they leave and- more likely than not -lose any chance to grab said spoils, but just sitting up had made the room spin, and she thinks better of trying to talk again just yet.
She does manage to dig hastily into a pocket on the inside of her cloak, ignoring the pain as she drags out a small sack. Upon opening it her hand disappears inside for a brief moment, and she draws out a small vial of something, which she unstops and drinks from. Shoving the vial back into the folds of her cloak, she tries to think as the nectar begins its work taking off the worst edge of pain. NOW she has enough of her wits about her to attempt speaking, and spares him a glance even as she looks between the door he'd emerged from and the corridor where the angry howling had roughly emanated from.]
Find anything...?