Edgar heard the words of the persistent soothsayer, but was too preoccupied with the present to worry about the future, and so the thoughts sifted gently to the niche of his mind reserved for idly obscure facts, the kind that one could recollect if they thought for long enough. Like many naysayers who strived for the attention and fear of the weak, what he was saying was probably lies; Armageddon had already come, and Edgar was sure that the fear-mongers would have ran out of stuff to say after something they rambled on about for so long came true… apparently not. 

Hearing the reply of the petite Cherie, the words coming in a much more familiar fashion, Edgar’s attention shifted to Keepa, understanding all of what she was saying, but he had to replay certain words in his mind until an associated meaning drifted to them. 

“I understand enough to get by,” Edgar responded aptly, though he was certain he was not putting the right strains on certain syllables, despite his message being clear. Edgar looked at the hulking mass that was named Xurga, and had a sinking feeling in his chest that one obtains after doing something really rather stupid. In all the discussions he had had with Elvira, it had been mainly about their physiology and biological functions: what they ate, how they bred, how they were born, how they grew. Never did Edgar once ask about their social hierarchy, which he was regretting now, but at least there was an unforeseen benefit, in that he knew what to focus his question on. 

“Then I shall have to apologise when we stop then, as I would rather like to survive this expedition,” Edgar laughed, tinges of nerves in it, hidden only by the sporadic change in breathing due to his quickened pace. Nevertheless he tried to strengthen his resolve, and steel his mind; he was doing this for science, and for the pride he upheld for being one of the few remaining academics he knew off; he would be damned if he was to let a little danger stop him from uncovering more about a race so mysterious to him.