[ Blake's ears perk in surprise, a thoughtful look crossing her expression. She hadn't considered the idea that there might be more groups of people like themselves, but its suggestion is a good one just in case there are. They shouldn't be wiping out clues, just in case.

Its assumption prompts a chaotic mix of emotions-- somewhere between self-consciousness and sadness. She smiles a little, rueful, and climbs out of the shallow grave to start shoveling dirt on top of the Husk laid within. ]

Not really. Sometimes-- I grew up as part of an activist group for Faunus. That's what we call people with animal features, where I'm from. When I got older, the leadership let me come on missions to help free our people from the places they were being held and exploited. Usually mines. Sometimes... when we got to the cages, one or two of them would be so badly malnourished or injured that they didn't survive much longer.

But Adam, my partner, never really let me help with the bodies. He always said I was too young. Too sensitive. [ At the time, she'd thought it romantic, that he was protecting her. Now she realizes it was just another manipulation tactic. Presenting himself as the matyr, the tough guy. ] I've seen enough graves to know how to dig one, at least.

Have you... seen a lot of bodies?