[@BrokenPromise]

Chiyo beamed with a rare genuine smile when Quill arrived and similar to the way the siver haired woman took a knee, Chiyo gave a polite curtsy of her dirty clothes as she dipped her head respectfully. For all appearances it was a simple gesture and unthreatening but the little womans hands were positioned in a way that put them in easy reach of the knives strapped below. 
Ever ready to strike by surprise.

Coming up from the curtsy, Chiyo took the envelope and swiped with her opposite hand, a small sharp throwing dagger mysteriously in hand as it neatly slashed a clean line through the paper before vanishing with the same alarmingly quick and practiced flick.
The contents were a meeting location and, as Chiyo could likely guess, Quill was to inform her of the specifics when the gang was properly gathered. 

"Big Sister Quill is always welcome to come along. But we should get going; don't want to keep my best friend waiting!" An innocent sounding giggle accompanied the fake innocent smile now growing across the little monsters face as Chiyo grabbed Quills hand and eagerly moved forward, seeming every bit the innocent and harmless youth.

[hr]

Mirt merely groaned at Anyons disposition. Talk of payment and violence for aid were better left when their little mercenary company was hired to fight rather than getting involved. It was also equally shameful that the Knight had healed Mirt rather than leave him as a casualty. Beggars couldn't be choosers in a situation like this one and so the Older Monk could merely shrug the ordeal away and attempt to move on. Attempt being the keyword, as his legs still felt like rubber. 

Despite the verbal tirade sparking from Anyons mouth, words that could make a flooded forest burst to flames, Mirt was not even going to attempt to dissuade Anyon from the fight she so clearly wanted. Her pride was enormous and matched her skills but Mono was another demon in itself. No fear. A warrior to their core. When at last the to had spilled their angry words and Anyon finally turning to leave, it was Mirts turn to do the talking.

"Sir Knight. Excuse my hot headed daughter. No doubt her concern for my life has effected her judgement and so I would be a poor father if an apology for her and myself was not in order." 

The old monks hands rested at his sides as he dipped into a low bow, his beard touching the floor as he bent nearly all the way to the floor with relative ease for a man of his age and despite his painful but recovering wounds.

"You have my gratitude, friend, for saving me when you had no cause to. As such it is my duty to offer my services as repayment for my damaged honor." Mirt raised his head and offered his hand, a gnarled limb of scars showing a lifetime of hardship, in peace to the knight captain. "Though it may not seem it, I am a warrior of some skill in my homeland and offer my services to you free of charge. Mirt, of the mercenary company 'Danger for hire'."