Artaith grunts at her companion's apparent sensitivity. "Ah'm pretty sure mah matron'd cut me off if I didn' make'n effort ta' help," she mutters. In the dim interior of the abandoned farmstead, it's hard to be sure if she's complaining or not. "Nature's cruel, 'n Ah worry for anything that kin take yer mind like that. Weren't people no more inside those bodies." She frowns deeply, perhaps more disturbed than she's letting on, the gaze quickly becoming a scowl.

"I'll put the hurt on whoever done it, given' half a chance."