Anba squints through the falling rain at the stone drums. "You're quite sure this is the right...?" She frowns and shakes her head as Sabiha pushes the gate ajar, and just as carefully she shuts it behind her.<br/><br/>No point giving a passing city guard something to investigate.<br/><br/>The pottery remnants give her pause as well. The other girl was serious. Anba can feel the fur on the nape of her neck trying to fluff and stand up beneath the drape she wears. "Your master's gate is that of a warrior, not a scholar," she remarks. The mongoose lets her lead-shot monkey's paw drop out of one sleeve, dangling from her left wrist at the end of its arm-long braid as she carefully pulls the long fabric drape from around her (and surreptitiously uses it to smoothe down her nape), twists the cloth and winds it again around her waist.<br/><br/>Anba keeps her voice low, almost blending with the rain's soft sizzle. "You know the things you seek, and, you said, the layout of this floor." She produces a slim wood chock from the split apron of tools once again revealed around her thighs, drops it lightly atop one nimble paw, then with a twist of cunning toes and a tap of her heel Anba wedges it beneath the door to hold it open. Without stepping across the threshold, the mongoose snakes her sleek-furred head in, glancing to left and right to assess the room's contents and other exits.<br/><br/>"Where did your master and his foe die, then? The meeting room? And which way lie the things you seek to retrieve?"