Whenever possible, Alice preferred to keep to herself. Experience had taught her long ago that Victorian society preferred young ladies, especially insane ones, to keep their mouths shut. No one cared what a lost young woman who'd spent roughly half her life in an asylum thought in the least, anyway. So she'd stayed silent except when necessary (though she deleted in speaking in short, enigmatic sentences from time to time, so as to confuse those around her) and kept her head down, so to speak.

But this was different. This was Paixao, and she was healthier now, in body and mind. She was stronger, and she'd had some time to come into herself. So she looked at Red with what was almost a smile and nodded. "Alright, then. I'm curious as to what's out there, anyway." She'd heard whispers of a new floor appearing; perhaps that would be a good place to start.

Besides, she had her knife with her if she needed to defend herself.