Elara pauses as she hears a quiet noise come from one of her companions. Turning, she realizes that it's Calia - her mind turns for a moment, coming to a conclusion. She'd been a student here, or worked here. It explained her knowledge, her comment and now her reaction. A shiver runs through her as the icy block in her chest shifts, compassion returning for the first time in what felt like months. Silently, the mage steps over to Calia, placing a hand on her shoulder and offering her a look of understanding sympathy. Obviously their situations were different; Elara's loss had been of a treasured friend, she had no home or place close to her heart that might be massacred, but the same feeling of pain and grief surely rests in the woman's own heart. So she offers the taller woman a slim smile, one not held up by false joy but supported by mutual pain.

As the group pushes deeper into the abandoned academy, Elara finds something she'd never expected to run into there - a sweet scent, precisely the kind that would draw her attention to the bearer, alone in the room. Sniffing to try and get a better idea of where it's coming from, the mage considers her repertoire of spells and, finding it lacking, frowns.

"Do you think there could be a hidden door here?" She wonders aloud, trying to find out precisely where the smell is the strongest.