There's a light tang of sarcasm in Poe's words: "Oh no. I've never lived with that possibility before."

And he has, hasn't he. The remembrance doesn't show on his face or in his eyes, but it's one more little piece slotted into place. Poe breaks into a slow jog, the kind of pace he knows will eat up distance without tiring him out in this kind of terrain. He's scanning their surroundings, listening hard, but there's no indication of something gone wrong or a fight either in progress or recently ended. "So this place. It's a prison."