[center][h2]Krunk Fortress, Lobby[/h2]
[sub]Where is it?[/sub][/center]

He yawned, scratching the bags beneath his eyes and nodding as Jenso spoke. [color=ed1c24]"Eyo, Jenso-man. Zerraf."[/color] He waved with his left hand. Zerraf went to cradle his arm for a short nap, and it was gone. He looked about him, and it was gone. The wind mage began mumbling incoherently, checking the soles of his boots and the cracks of the floor. Within a blink Zerraf rushed to the door, as if there was no distance between. He punched the door and an echo permeated the lobby. His knuckles bled and blended into his red cloak. Did he leave it on the grass? No, he remembered picking it up. Someone had taken it.

Zerraf turned, neck cracking, to eye each door with a glazed look. Hell had no fury. [color=ed1c24]"You can't hide the pillow from me. I'll take this whole place down."[/color] Zerraf strode with surprising energy behind Jenso, unsheathing his rapier and pointing it over his shoulder as Jenso opened each door. [color=ed1c24]"Stand still,"[/color] Zerraf breathed.