Ryah would have been perfectly happy never bringing up that morning ever again. In fact, he had shoved it so far down into the recesses of his mind, he had practically forgotten it. He sucked in a sharp breath, turning his head away to stare at the wall, at the unconscious guard, at the decor--anything but Drake. His hands clenched, and he swallowed hard. "I thought we agreed to never speak of that again," he muttered, though they hadn't actually agreed to anything. Ryah was a big fan of sweeping things under the rug though.<br/><br/>He shook his head quickly. "Um, no, that--that's fine. I don't need...an education for<i>that</i>." The brunet darted his eyes to Drake's before looking away quickly. "I'm not religious. Not like a bible thumper or whatever. Our community is just--um--traditional." Ryah glanced towards the stairs. "We should check out the upstairs." He passed Drake his clothes. "You should, er, put your clothes back on."