(... There's a thought.

She adds checking for traps on her to-do list. Wall, wall, footsteps, wall, footsteps, fuck you, spider-thing, get a sonic burst, footsteps...)

"That didn't sound like a fight," observes Inavet, a little distantly. Shit, she's getting to the point where she's just going to fess up that she has magic and has been giving these creatures hell at this rate, carrying on a conversation and also causing them trouble is sort of hard...