Feinberg pauses a moment, drawing a pack of Dunhill Platinum cigarettes from 
his jacket. Kirkland offers a light. Feinberg accepts it, then takes a drag, 
holding the cig between his fingertips. "The female in the blanket fancies
herself a shaman. She is unskilled, poorly trained, but very strong-willed. She 
brought the group here. In her view, the building is colored darkly... her
words not mine."