Taking her cues from others, especially Morgana, was really the only way she would know if she was doing something right or wrong. Morality wasn't a large concept in her previous life. Though she had been a nice enough squirrel, as squirrels went.

Finally getting the courage to leave the witch's side, Rosaline waylays the nearest heap of bones and tattered clothing. This person died with a torch, and in their death, now passed it on over to the new visitors to this dungeon. A person might spare a moment for thought, or consideration to the afterworld for this poor departed soul. But Rosaline's needs come well before the metaphysical.

"Can you light this, my Lady?"