Robin looked on through the conversation, trying her hardest not to breath. The air was rank, and there was no breeze to freshen the room. She wished she had some Febreze or Lysol or anything. Her brow furrowed, however, at the old warrior's words. He seemed dejected, or scared, or both. It seemed a strange state of mind for a tough old warrior.<br/><br/>"Who do you think is coming to take you away?" she asked the man. "And what does it look like when the strong warriors are taken to Valhalla?" She sat beside the Doctor, wordlessly placing her hand against his. For some reason, this place and this conversation held a serious sense of foreboding, or almost dread. It was strange, but it felt like something very bad was on the horizon.