[Davesprite rolls his eyes behind his shades. He can type his own misgivings in after the meat of it, since there are certainly potential dangers. They debated them enough already. But Lehko's dreaming if he thinks he's going to retract the quote.]

[He doesn't speak up again until a moment or so later. He noticed the wandering and staring from the start, but it's him keeping it up that draws his voice.]

You gonna keep prowling? There's other rooms to dig through if you're bored. Maybe one of them will have dirty poetry scratched on its wall. Maybe leave your own. What counts as poetry in the furry dimension, odes to hairballs and catnip?

[Note to self: leave a rap for someone someday. This place is depressing without any good music to listen to.]