[Well!

Her side of the room, at least, is untouched. But the floor is now scattered with loosed paper, the chair from Vakama's side of the room discarded to the side and the obvious source of the blockage for the door. While there's writing here and there, almost every page is covered with imagery, dark and obscure, very obviously scribbled in haste rather than any sort of artistic effort. Mountains and forests and dark expanses of sky, crashing waves, crumbling buildings. The shapes of figures unfamiliar, abandoned, grotesque. The notebook that had been holding them sits askew in a corner - the culprit for what had been thrown around, given its condition.

Vakama does not respond at first, a numb effort to try and collect the mess from the flooring.]

I'm sorry, I know. I would.... I would have written a note if I'd had more time.

[She pries again, and he visibly flinches.]

No. No, that's... [It's nothing, hadn't he said it was nothing--]

Void Archive and I nearly came to blows, and I -- I wasn't about to have them just barge in. I panicked.