From beneath her hood, Ciscera's lips curled back menacingly, her sharp canines revealing only a glimmer of their threat from within the darkness of the cowl. The lion was familiar, one of a family whose manes were far too large for their armor, in both the figurative and the literal sense. The Elmins' pompous nature and childish belief that power was entirely resultant of one's name had frustrated her in the past, especially as, despite all other factors, they were often the ones chosen to lead the elite castle guard. Though she did not know this Elmin in particular, and though he was no longer a comrade, the contempt she had for his pompous nature was nearly palpable as the feline walked away. 

But if the contempt she had for the lion was tangible, the apathy she had for the wolf was far beyond crushing, a force that threatened to escape the boundaries of her mind and bear down her wrath on his canine form. If she was back in those sweet, delicious weeks where her unbridled rage could have been released, back before they had gone in hiding, back when he and his men had been at her untempered mercy, she would have watched his crimson blood drip from the blades on her wrists. But here, under the eyes of citizens turned spies, she had to contain her fury to the bubbling of a simmer, the fire of a glare, the curse that, as soon as she had the chance, she would rip the life from his pitiful body and be done with this hellish pact for good. 

It took a minute for her claws to sheathe, but when they did, she simply leaned against the same support that Shar had been, allowing her anger to dissipate into simple disgust. 

“Too concerned about your own lover, dog?” She sneered, palming the remaining gold coin in her grasp. “ Because while you have been strutting about lovesick, I actually garnered useful information. First, the dyes they sell have become fashionable as of late, but only as highlights; to buy enough black to hide my coloration would be a feat even for a noble. Furthermore, it's smell is bitter, and very distinguishable, especially in large amounts.”

For a man noted to be a great tactician, his inability to perform was astounding. Her voice betrayed her pride as she continued, quieting softly as to not arouse suspicion. “The princess is having her birthday ball in two days, all of the nobles are invited to this grand event. Furthermore, it is her 18th birthday, and is themed as a masquerade. With this gold coin I found, we should be able to buy the supplies to disguise the two of us for the event, which we can then attend and depart as if any other.... couple.”

 The final word felt vile on her tongue, but this plan could be their only means of escape from the capital city. “We will get my strider and supplies from the stables, I have contacts a few miles out from the city who should be able to shelter us for a night. Now what did you find, or was your mind too focused on the whores you claimed to despise to be of any use? “