Rook pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his left hand, his other hand resting on the pommel of a sheathed ketra blade. Adele made some good points, but she still sounded more like a civilian than a mercenary. [i]Life-threatening danger always lurks around every corner,[/i] he thought to himself. [i]That's why people hire us. It's why we're armed to the teeth.[/i] 

"Of course I care about your safety," he said. "And my own," he added as an afterthought. "Which is why I've got knives strapped to every limb and [i]this,[/i]" he voiced in a whisper as he pulled his totem from beneath his shirt, "around my neck." Rook put the totem away and looked around to make sure nobody else had seen it. "It twitches when danger is about to strike and it's been motionless the entire journey. We are not in any immediate danger."

He paused and cocked his head, listening to the voice of master Hemming as it drifted over from the caravan. Eyes pointedly fixed on Adele's, Rook shrugged when the man was done explaining his side of the story. "Well, there you go," Rook said. "Maybe he's withholding information, or maybe he's right and he's not actually being hunted. Either way," he spoke with a tone of finality, "it is not [i]our[/i] place to judge and argue. And I'm sorry for any perceived tactlessness on my part, it was not my intention to upset you any further," he muttered. "Come, let's return to the group."

And with that, Rook turned and walked back to the caravan.