They're not even five minutes in this time when Tzahala feels...<em>something</em>. It's nothing that she hears, or sees, or smells... but as the seconds pass, the feeling continues to worm its way across her shoulders and arms. Like she's walked into a freezer, even though the air around her is still the DU-Perfect 75.7 degrees... or like sixteen pairs of eyes settled firmly on her.<br/><br/>Of course, when she turns around to examine the mechanic and her partner, the runner sees nothing. The dwarf is squatting in front of a security panel, examining the wiring intently as if looking for something out of place, and "Owleyes" is sitting and watching down the opposite end of the hall, humming softly to herself. Like she's here without a care in the world...