"Given the choice," Dolores cuts in, a bit louder than usual at the start and falls back to her normal volume as she speaks. She looks a little pale and more than a little nauseous as she says: "I'd rather keep the wood for us and burn those bodies outside...least' until we have no other options.

"Anyone got a way to haul them out of that crack? I don't imagine they'll have as easy a time climbing up as we did." And it wasn't easy. Not at all--but the man who'd just spoken is barefoot and confused. Something in Dolores's expression hangs, then shifts to concern as she looks at him.

"How do you normally look?"