"Yes. You're right. Can't think about it now."

She pockets the amulet. "We have to go further down. The varterral protects Elvhen ruins."

"We've got your back," Henri promises.

She leads them down further into the caves, battling spiders and skeletons as they go. Twice more, Merrill crouches beside the body of a Dalish hunter, and collects a small amulet. 

The more perceptive members of the party will hear or sense a distressed noise coming from a distressed person, hiding in the shadows.

Ira clicks her tongue.

Blaise shudders. "Stop. No. Please."

“Hello? It’s all right! We’re not skeletons! We’re really real!”

“Thank the Creators!” Says a small voice, and then a fourth Dalish hunter comes stumbling around the corner. He’s young, with red hair that sticks up every each way. His voice is the picture of relief. 

Until his eyes settle on Merrill, and it turns to terror. “Merrill?”

"There's other people here. Can't be fussy about rescue."

"Do you know what she is? What she's done!?"

"Saved my life!"

"-I don't think I know that story. However: we don't have time to argue about this."

“Pol, please, we’re here to help!”

“No! Stay away from me!”

Pol runs back the way he came. 

“He’s running towards the vartarrel!” Merrill screams, and runs after him. 

...Ilska is fast, and tackles the elf.

“No! Get off me!” Pol lashes out with pointy elbows and sharp fingers. 

“Pol! Please, we’re not going to hurt you! I’m- I’m not going to hurt you!”

Ilska doesn't let him go, pivots him towards the exit. "If you're going to run, run that way."

Pol noticeably recoils from going anywhere near Merrill.

Merrill turns, hands her staff to Henri, and walks herself as far from Pol as she can, without blocking a clear run to the exit. 

Her nails clench into her palms. 

Henri drifts back with her.

Ira lets Pol go.

Pol stumbles out of her grip, and turns to stare worriedly at her, but backs towards the exit. 

Before he keeps going, he looks at Merrill, with terrified hatred. “That thing you brought back, it killed Tamlen. Mahariel. How can you justify that?”

“Because our history is worth protecting, Pol. Even if we have to do distasteful things.”