>Yes, you realise that guts are probably 80% of this person's motivation.
>You ponder an idea of what to do, your hand hovering by the low, almost dead flame of the candle.
>That voice, you think about it so hard even your morning-dead brain begins to reel with ideas.
>They begin speaking, to a seemingly unknown source.
>You cannot make out what they are saying, as it is in a whisper.
>You could've sworn you heard a "ze" somewhere.
>You read their mind, picking up the following words: "If I find those spellcards she ripped from people, I could combine it with my-"
>The light suddenly turns on. You curse your hands having a mind of their own... the flare of the light blinds you for a second, yet you get a glimpse of the person before they dive behind a cupboard. You DO recognise her! It's that blonde-haired magician that came down recently, because of the geyser that sprung up on the surface. You can't think of her name, but you know it at least has the initals M-K. M-K... you think for a while...
>...