"Shit," Seems, for a moment, like that might cover it. Never been great with this sort of thing: Comfort, loss, the hard look folks get when run against tomb wall. But Lazar doesn't watch so careful unless he cares a bit. Hand drops. "You see her?"

Ought to know what kind of ugly's been boiling in there. He stoops before the fire, opposite to Barrow. Crouched, a face through the flames. Easy to watch it, else squint; let it blur away.