Rubbing the back of his head, Jon props himself up on an elbow, frowning as he looks around the duct. The Buried? It'd be a rather toothless instance, if that's the case. Although he knows better than to trust it'd stay that way.
"Right, cat..." he says absently. "Where do you think we are?"
no subject
"Right, cat..." he says absently. "Where do you think we are?"