River wrinkled her nose at the thought of kissing dirt - "Time enough for that in the grave." Her tone was sing-song, sitting oddly beside the morbid comment, but Mal was probably well used to morbid by now. At least he agreed with her; she'd been worried the problem wasn't with the place, not with the way everyone else spoke and the things they didn't say, the things she just knew without really knowing how, but having someone else - someone she trusted - admit they felt it too helped.
Her own thoughts on the complex were far less discrete than his admission, far blunter. "Don't like it." She frowned, pouting, with all the conviction of a small and sulky child, turning her attention back to the pool and brushing her fingers across the water's surface again. "It's loud."