She could hear voices, but even in the still emptiness of the dead world they were too quiet for her to make out words. People were here though and Nesir had no idea how or why or if they meant her harm.

She remained on the top of the watch tower, a dagger drawn in her left hand (she had forgotten how much her right had hurt in the first few months after her injury). She watched the doorway, ready for whatever came up the stairs.