Essentially trapped in a mobile cell, the other inmate without fluency in his only language.. Lukas was doing a lot of surmising. But with a brain full of fog, he was pretty much making up the inner monologue as he went along. And probably only batting a 50% accuracy. Registering the gashed widening of her eyes, captivating as flames on fossil fuel -- did she see something, too? That wasn't possible.
The tap of a dainty claw toward her ear led one of Lukas' brows on the rise. Was she asking him to listen? Cute.
But no, the expression on her face wasn't one of malice or joking; she must have been hinting at the fact that there was some sound in the elevator with them. The concept of sound was difficult for Lukas to grasp. Did elevators make noise? What qualified as noise? Thinking about was a promissory note for a headache, and he shook his shoulders before taking a dragstrip taste of his tea just as the doors welcomed them to the 1st floor.
He disembarked, carefully juggling the busted koto and his mug. If the unusual load should have brought some difficulty, Lukas seemed curiously capable. He had a lot of practice hauling strangely shaped artifacts and metal beams.