[i][h2][color=MediumSeaGreen]Lora Kadar[/color][/h2]
[/i]

Prince Cyril accepted the pirate’s offer as kindly as Lora had suspected he would, and then he turned to her and she saw something odd in his eyes. But it was fleeting and gone when he spoke, and she couldn’t have said what it was even if she watched it for hours. Nothing he would ever feel towards her fit that look quite right. He accepted her offer with a statement that sounded like a question spoke with the wrong inflection, but he moved on afterward so she accepted that was a yes—she could fight for him. Others stepped up and Lora took a step back, making room. She caught Dalious’ gesture towards her and her eyebrows furrowed together for a brief moment; she wondered what in the world a pirate was winking at her for. Then again, he was a pirate. He seemed to experience a brief headache next, and headed off (perhaps to lie down and cure said ailment) once the eight spots were filled. 

Lora left when the group disbanded, following Kisarin to the dining halls. She spotted a few familiar faces before she had finished grabbing her food, and sat down where she could greet each one of them. They all clapped each other on the back and the nonhuman from her neighboring pack lowered his head in respect, and then they resumed their usual eating, drinking, and yelling over each other to be heard. Cyril passed by and Lora finally got to share her excitement at travelling with the Prince. Her friends did not disappoint her in their enthusiasm—a few laughing and the others howling as she told them about the saved village and the Prince’s arrival. 

A fight broke out next to them and they simply shifted over a little and watched, the conversation continuing as Kisarin grabbed the two by the scruff of their neck and set them apart as one might do to puppies who were playing too roughly. The night wore on in exactly that manner of eating and talking and fighting, and when the moon rose Lora started to feel the impact of the day’s travels. With many excuses, insistences, and a loud but playful growl, she set off towards the rooms Yihira had given them. 

Upon reaching an empty one, however, the threat of tomorrow loomed over her. The exhaustion still hung heavy but swirling thoughts of tomorrow wouldn’t calm, and Lora knew there would be no sleep for her right now. She kept on down the hall and stepped her way around her countrymen, their unconscious presence rather comforting. It didn’t take long to find an empty hall, though, and here Lora ambled along. 

She had volunteered, naturally, but she wasn’t too much of a fighter. Not like some of the others from the pack—she felt none of their bloodlust, got nothing from the kill. Hunting animals and playing were different from intentionally injuring others, but it was what the Prince and Barcea needed. And it was her way, also, as a Guratan. She didn’t enjoy it but she wasn’t bad at it; she had earned her place as Beta from more than her birthright. And it would take more than a little unease to keep her from fighting for the Prince, she told herself, and she would fight well for him. 

It was right as she was convincing herself that the fight tomorrow would go well, when she heard the man from her thoughts down the corridor. Curiosity dawned and Lora stepped up her pace, rounding the corner to find Cyril…and the Wanderer, of all people. The man was standing in front of a door but looking to the Prince, who was speaking with him. Cyril looked as though he had just found the Wanderer—the way Lora had just found both of them. She heard the man squeak out an ambiguous excuse and wondered if she had walked in on something she shouldn’t have. It didn’t seem important, but they were in a deserted corridor and the Prince probably didn’t want an audience for this. Then again, the Prince seemed to have just arrived as well, and what if the strange look the Wanderer had was something that would work against the Prince? Sure, he had come along with them, but Lora had seen his skill first hand. She couldn’t risk him attacking the Prince. But, if that wasn’t the case, she didn’t want to seem rude. Caught between worry and manners, Lora stayed right at the edge of the shadows a little ways behind Cyril.