She exhaled as her body relaxed but her mind was gone. If ever there was someone completely at his mercy, it was Catherine in that moment - and yet, she trusted him enough. Kennet was not the judge. It was that particular spirit she had been wary of.
Moving through the catacomb in her mind's eye, her breath was heavy even if she wasn't actually breathing. She wasn't surprised that this was where they were hiding. The skeletons worried her - were they animated or simply there for appearance's sake? Though there was a deep satisfaction of being right at the sight of the armor even if that satisfaction was tainted with, well, being right. She hadn't wanted to be right.
Catherine settled in next to Fredric first, looking him over but all she could do was spare him a prayer. Merrick next then, trying to drown out the sounds of Issac's voice in the memories of the stone. But Merrick... Merrick was... looking at her? Of course, he was. Goblins were fae-like. They could see things other species couldn't. Can you hear me? her psychic version said.