Sabriel hesitates, visibly. She looks down, away, and up to her friend, wrestling with a concept. "I can sense it." Or an admittance. "I don't know how to explain it. But it's more than just seeing, or how I feel. But I knew this pit would be here before anything else told me. And the mire itself... death is caught here, somehow, and it shouldn't be."

It's never been a concept to wrestle with, how she's always been so aware of death, so knowing. But it's hard to explain something that she's always had, that most of her family line did, to varying degree.