A small noise of consideration. Plans were good. They could also be dangerous. He spends a few more seconds thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his cheek, a small murmur of unease and curiosity and mingled satisfaction drumming across the link between them.

"Lots do. How long have you been here? How many have gone asleep since then?" Has someone died yet? Someone usually has. At least with the sleeping ones there was a chance they'd wake up again. Corpses just became heavy, inert like a stone tied to some necessary limb. "It happens all the time."

Sometimes to people you could almost expect it of - the ones who are weak or delicate in some way. But sometimes it happens to the ones who seem fit and perfectly capable. Sometimes there isn't any explanation and that doesn't even count-- "And sometimes dangerous things happen and staying quiet about something gets the rest of us in trouble with them."