With: Liam, Sarnai, Brandy.
Where: Marauders Camp, Northern Duchy
When: March 28th, 872 RoK - Morning
With Liam's help, getting the bodies out of sight was less work than dragging them on his own, but still a struggle. And once they were all locked up, they could move on-
But for the poor man in his cell, whose eyes Killick met briefly between Brandy's brief but intense impositions on him. What had he done, to wind up here? Enough prisoners were just unlucky. The wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong allegiance... He found himself glancing back at the cell across from the man in green's, even as he felt the promise implied in Brandy's gesture with the lockpick hollow.
"What's he mean?" His brows knit, and Killick looked to Sarnai first before turning back to the prisoner: "What do you mean?" Took his heart, left nothing? The words iced over his spine, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he tried to make sense of it.
People didn't survive without hearts... so what was the point of jailing someone who had to be dead? All the old stories aside - and he'd read them, once upon a time when he had much more of it on his hands - there were no actual documentations of a living, breathing person leaving the witch's woods without their heart. No real, trustworthy sources that weren't a friend of a cousin's grandmother's neighbor.
And so, embracing that skepticism, Killick took a step back from the prisoner's cell...and turned to the other one, jaw clenching tight. His steps forward were unsure only for a moment, growing in confidence as he approached the bars and his thoughts drifted back to the smallest touch of a smile at the corners of Sarnai's lips. The soft curve of it, like everything else about her subtle until it wasn't-- he steeled himself to the task of drawing up the torch stolen from a dungeon wall, and watching the flickering light encroach further into the shadowed cell.