There's a few moths scattered throughout the prison. They're all generally calm, unlike their many ant allies.

She stood, wondering if she could talk with one while she waited for Javara to wake up. She walked up to one's cell bars.

The moth, a particularly fluffy brown and white man on the older side of adulthood, stands and comes over to her. He seems... hopeful.

She gives a little wave. "Hi."

,, We all thought you were dead! ,, He smiles. Hes speaking in a language different than the foxes, yet she understands him perfectly.

She is only mildly shocked at his language. She understand he's referring to the old her, not the her of now. "Oh...uh, yeah. I'm totally not dead. Yay?" She didn't know precisely how the old her would respond, probably not nicely.

,, The key. ,, He points to the one shes holding. ,, itll open any of us moths cages. They have a different one for the ants. ,,

"Oh, I...I can't open your cages." She said.

,, Why not? You have the key in your hand. ,,

"What would you do if you got out?" she asked instead.