Something that mimics the hazards outside the walls -- or, at least those natural to the terrain. [ a long slow breath. she quirks a mild smirk, as though she's almost envious of his thought. ] Yes. You're quite right.

[ she still holds the rifle. barrel-down, fingers relaxed and far from the trigger. paint is a harmless thing, but she had hit the very word right on its head earlier. training dictates a great deal of what she does in this moment. ]

We'll need ropes. Boards. Wire.