Quoted By:
Your eyes ache fiercely, as does the brain behind them. Yet as you stare at the Estranged water thinking about what to do next, a one salient point insists upon itself; that a moment that you spend here is a moment that you aren't planting the False Graven Ball, that you aren't collecting your coach, and that you aren't moving house. You just don't know how you are going to do all of it... but you can readily acknowledge that the sooner you are done here the better chance you have of pulling off such a miracle. So to that end, you cannot afford detours or delays. In the gleam off of your eyes, you find the decanter, grab it up and beat a quick retreat into the dormitory. Passing through the gimmicked door, you make straight for the wash-basin. Getting the remains of the washing water into the decanter without making a mess is a bit more involved than you would have thought, as unlike the rain-barrel, there is not enough depth or breadth for a submersion. Considering your options quickly, you elect to pluck the basin out of the stand, and pour the wash-water in. Even with a little spill, there looks to be more than enough for an additional cast left over in the bowl. As you reseat the basin, looking to keep yourself busy - keep yourself <span class="mu-i">moving</span> - you shift your foot, intending to start to wipe up the dribbles with your footwrap - but you stop yourself. The absorbancy of these battered, sweat-stained linen wraps is ... questionable. And what dire straights you would be in if you end up tracking the water around. Unexplained puddles are bad enough ... but footprints are something entire else. And that isn't even mentioning that you could very well end up unmaking your tenuous wrapping.
Moreover, you resolve yourself against faffing about with the door any more than you need to. Just close the damned thing. If it so happens that some diligent Guard comes along, and sees the water, and somehow gets it into his head that he should check the lock ... well, you have already pinned your hopes - and your safety - on a fresh pair of Guards being the ones sent in, as opposed to the original two returning. Just as it would be with the table, any unlocked door - and inexplicably spilt water - will be thrown at their feet.
Hopefully.
You choke down what salt remains in your mouth, mournfully wishing you had some water to drink as well as to work. As you can already notice the light off of your eyes dimming a little, you take this opportunity to reassemble your 'stick-decanter, and get the candle relit with your snap-sparker. In the warm glow of the flame and the stark white shine of your eyes, you search around the door to make sure that you haven't left anything behind here. No bits of cooled wax, no spilt salt - nothing but communicably Estranged water. You are still having a hard time seeing the Stains on the water - but you can quite clearly see the Stains on the wooden floors underneath. Ill-at-ease, you look away and proceed into the archive.
