Having just about prepared himself for the strenuous task of drifting back into unconsciousness, the question earns a sound vaguely resembling a zombie gargling gravel. Then his eyes open, and Carrog stares at the wall opposite. Then glances at Optima. Then back to the wall, as if making a choice.

He rolls his head around to look into his room, managing a detailed perusal of one corner of a desk, the curled edges of some parchment, and the promising suggestion of a goliath-sized chair.

"Maybe in there. Otherwise, no."