He calls out only once, a tremulous, “Grakul-dura?” There’s a questioning lilt in his voice. Lyria sniffs. “What’s the point in that mouse-ish whispering?” She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Is anyone there?” Her voice echoes down the corridor, hollow and lost. “Juk!” Yok growls, and I’m sure it’s an expletive.
