[ Ernesto has combed over these ruins pretty thoroughly himself at this point, but there's always the hope that someone will find some small trace of something that might tip them off on why they're here, or what the hell this ritual is that the guards keep "surreptitiously" whispering about.

He doesn't get his hopes up when the man in front of him starts with the salesmen pitch, but he still manages to feel just a slight pang of disappointment when the punchline of the obvious joke is finally delivered. ]

Aha...

[ His laugh is as weak as the slow wag of his tail, but it's not like he can really blame someone for not being able to find something useful, when he himself hasn't been able to either. ]

I want to say that's an impressive feat for moss, but I'll be honest, I don't actually know enough about it to say if it is or not.