Fail post is fail. I can change pp if you want. Also, feel free to pp if need be. :}
As his fingers fell away from the wall, Silas wandered back to the railing to peer below into the darkness. A kiosk. Even if they found one he couldn't be so sure that there’d be enough light to even read what was there. "Don’t know," Silas replied, surprised that Rurik had sent no chastising words his way for having spoken entirely in Russian just moments before. He figured he’d stick to his shaky English for now though, if not to please his father.
He brushed lightly past his sister, making his way towards the stairs. A set of them seemed strange – metallic with some splashes of orche where the moisture had begun to eat away. Silas opted for the stairs parallel to the escalator, taking the first few steps down before turning back towards Liliya. "You come to?" Rurik had wandered away in the opposite direction and the boy assumed his sister would tag along with one or the other. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Silas hoped he wouldn’t be alone in his descent to the kiosk.
Their footsteps filled the arched ceilings of the station, echoing hollowly from the walls. When they reached the bottom, Silas looked around and waited for his eyes to pick up on what was there. A kiosk, a kiosk. He didn’t see anything like that at first and was more concerned with the drop off that lined one side of the ground. "Stay clear of the ledge," he warned his sister in native tongue. Rurik, he hoped, would be out of ear shot if they spoke in low tones. "See anything useful? A kiosk maybe?" He turned and studied a pillar littered with attached flyers. Ironically, many of them talked of the epidemic virus.
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