Bitterroot blinked a few times and looked around the room. It was surprisingly orderly, all things considered. Sure, there were some broken shelves on one wall, food was spilled around a cabinet, a chest of traveling supplies was sitting open, but all things considered, it didn’t look like the place had been ransacked much. Almost like Amanita — a necromancer and a murderer — had only wanted a few things rather than just taking everything. Bitterroot crouched next to the mare and stared at her face, trying to think.