"He gave me his little toe bone..." Ava mumbles despairingly at the spark of memory. A check of her pockets comes up empty. She has no idea where it is, what she ended up doing with it.

"How... old timey is all this?" Ava asks hesitantly, having spent most of her time avoiding civilization as much as possible has made it difficult to estimate. But even more backwards from the technology required for her to live isn't comforting.

But the thought of scrubbing off, even with sad old soap is at the forefront of her concerns that allows her to follow along despite all the other trepidations. She fades invisible by Darcy's side the closer they get to the tavern.