[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjk2LmIzMTk2Yy5WM0psYmcsLC4w/briaroak-shire.regular.png[/img][/center] Wren held the grip on her dagger all the harder when the stranger in the robe spoke up. She hadn't asked questions. She COULDN'T ask questions, merely think them. And yet he spoke to her as if she had spoken as easily as the others around them. That was unheard of. No one could read minds, no one could look into the head of someone unless it was on the chopping block and the axe has been brought down. Who was this person? More importantly, who were these people? She heard the voice speak, but she understood even less than before. There was talk of worlds. Of saving them? Helping them? Wren was skeptical. How could she not be given what she was hearing. The one that believed words from strangers were the ones that wound up taken advantage of. Wren only took a cursory glance at the others gathered. She didn't know their strengths, their weaknesses, or anything beyond the physical, but already she was thinking of ways to make their lives shorter. There was something to be said of civility, yes, but it was the soon to be dead that didn't plan ways to take out the people you met in these situations. Some of these people looked dangerous, but Wren did not see any who had the same eyes as her. The eyes of someone with true remorse. With an empty heart. How could any of them truly consider themselves killers otherwise. It was only when the high pitched sound reached her ears that Wren flinched and loosened her grip. It wasn't deafening but it was noticeable. Audible. And alarming. Once she regained her composure from the sound, the grip tightened further. Was this a test? A target? Some threat? There were others around but Wren had gone so unnoticed. WOuld continue to be. And it would be easy to Sing her way closer, to slide her Talon across whatever neck was responsible. But instead she gasped and nearly dropped her dagger to the floor. Blinking didnt change the scene. Nor did closing her eyes and re-opening them. Whatever conversation the robed figure was having with the new arrival was lost on Wren's ears, for her eyes were already taken, quite taken in fact, by the blonde woman whose siren call alerted her arrival. Wren had felt something like this before, an affection from a glance, but it was rare that it caught her off guard. Rare that it made her nearly drop her weapon. Rarer still that made her sheathe it. And yet she did, putting her Talon back in its nest. The last time Wren had felt something like this, she was forced to take the other's life. Wren was still curious as to why she was here. Why any of them were. But the answer was secondary now. For Wren, for that ever foolish girl, she only wanted to get closer. But for now, she remained behind. In the shadows. Watching. Observing. Hoping that this time...would not end in tears.