There is a flurry of quiet activity in the room.
Ham Sahladt is reconfiguring himself in anticipation.
Mon'Fargret is thoughtfully eying the woman outside through the narrow opening in the door while readying his gear.
Lirassa is crouching, tensed as if to spring, behind the chair, the reconfigured hot comb (which no longer looks like a hot comb) clutched in her hand and a very intense look on her face.
Dabid is standing near the media terminal actively wishing he were somewhere else.
Widjgleeby, smelling all the tension in the air, turns her attention toward the room but keeps her bec-de-spoon raised.
Mey'Luskar is trembling, but her fears seem to be about evenly divided between the Farbett and the person at the door.
Nekshi takes a step backward from the door, still looking puzzled.
Zeton moves quietly toward her, intent on moving her still further from the door.
Heaven only knows what Granite Spear is doing.
Mira (if that is her real name), can be heard to chortle. Then she says, "Alright, then. Fools."
