[ Marcos tries to be some kind of brace against the swaying that doesn't seem to let up. When she mentions fire, he tenses and his stomach flips, thinking of the burning landscape they barely got a glimpse of before following Clarice.

'...they wanted us to feel what they felt.' ]

Ah. [ He takes it in slowly, holding her and taking deep breaths, keeping his darker thoughts to himself as that settles over him. The smell is horrible, worse now that he knows what it is, and he can still hear them wailing just below them. They were burned alive. What army? Where are they? ]

Um. It's probably... [ He fights against whatever he was drugged with, straining to put two thoughts together as he swallows how unsettled he is. ] Someone else put us here, and they'll be back at some point. Maybe one of the others knows more. Maybe they saw something.