"Their sandals don't look too weird," Morgan added.
"Yeah, but what about their clothes?" Collin said. "They're wearing dresses! Mini-dresses! No one's worn stuff like that since the dark ages."
"At least they're dry," Courtney mumbled, wringing salt water out of her shirt. "I'm soaked and I probably look like a drowned rat."
Morgan laughed softly. "It's better than being covered with goo."
"Yeah, I'm sure glad you got to take a bath, Morg. That prehistoric stuff was pretty nasty," Collin teased.
Morgan rolled her eyes, then turned away from Collin and peaked again over the barrel. "I don't care how they're dressed," she whispered. "Maybe they can help us."
"I think we'd better figure out where we are and what century we're in before we go asking for help," Courtney said. "And we need to figure out what we're looking for this time, too."
"You didn't hear the voice?" Collin asked and Morgan and Courtney shook their heads. He motioned for them to move closer and sit beside him, then quietly and very dramatically repeated the words. "It whispers. It roars. Can you harness it?" Collin laughed. "Sounds pretty lame, doesn't it?"
"So did the last clue, but we figured it out." Morgan leaned against a barrel and wrapped her hands around her knees. "What whispers?" she asked.
"That voice," Courtney answered. "You. Me. Probably a million other things, too. And lions roar."