[Is he a dancer? The thought flits across her mind. There's a weightlessness to his movements that she recognises. Though with her it's usually less musical and more martial. She rubs her ears, which are, well, fine, but she feels like they ought to be popping or aching at the sudden absence of noise. She follows Peter over, chooses not to trail her fingers in grime.]

Why's it covered in dust? Are we in the same time as before?

[Could time have changed? It sounds made up, but then, all of this seems made up. Still, she feels a little foolish asking. She looks up at the windows, reddening light creeps along the walls, day fading into night. Should she be worried about that? Or is that a sign it things are returning to normal? Some kind of normal. She circles round the bell to try and get a look in the hollow, maybe just to check if there's even a clapper inside.]

Was there a point to leading us here? Maybe someone wanted to separate us.

[The thought that Bruce might have met a sticky end is intriguing and she perks up a bit at that.]

You're right. We should go and check.

[Her wide eyes may not accurately portray concern as oppose to excitement.]