Dagavia had remained out of the discussion about supplies, but snatched the water canteen and her share of rations half-hesitantly, half-defiantly. As soon as the items were stowed, her hands went back to fondling her charm as she followed along with the others, drawing closer to them and hunching her shoulders a bit at the sight of the wretches watching them. There'd never been love lost between her type and those. At least those in more direct Imperial Service had tolerance for her uses if not often any great liking, either.<br/><br/>For her, the sight of their destination was welcome, and the bag of bones slid out of her fingers as she ran her hands along fastenings and gear, verifying all was in as much readiness as she could ensure. The first puff of air from the shaft below adds a greenish tinge to her pale skin, but she clamps her jaw and refuses to let the proof of death and rot even so much as slow her entry with the others, though she looked back, one quick glance, her throat tightening as she saw the light begin to fade.<br/><br/>"Who has light?" she asked quietly.