Their path suddenly turns them down a dark corridor, lit only with strings of pale lights running down the length of the hallway. Almost without thinking about it, Robin pulls a something out from around his neck--a small vial of glowing red liquid, topped with some kind of intricate brass cap, hanging from a chain. It lights up the tunnel a few feet in front of them, but not much further.

Robin laughs too, at being called a curious collection. He won't admit out-loud to being a collection of several things at once, but he can at least acknowledge the commonality.

"That's all right. If anyone can figure it out, it's me. Birds of a feather, as they say."