"That was only for a moment, Doctor," Morgana protests, but, if pressed, she would agree with him. It is not that she does not think his theory is correct, more that she hates the idea that whatever it is thinks she's the easier target.

Moving a slight bit farther away from him, for a second, she shakes her skirt, trying to get off the thick, deep crimson liquid. It is far more awkward to wander around with one's skirts almost sticking to one's ankles.

"If it wants to separate us, no running down stairs," she corrects herself, "or up stairs until we know exactly what is waiting for us."