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The mental whiplash that suddenly afflicted the werewolf was very nearly painful, from utter chaos and mortal danger amidst tons of falling stone and ear-splitting explosions, crashing bookshelves, murderous anubi and then even more bloodthirsty and ravenous man-sized scarabs; to this strangely idyllic, dreamlike paradise, this meadow-like inverted woodlands island within the world.

But where the transition was strained at best, from surface to the promised Vaults, the presence of the wondrous-wise being at the center of this world strangely soothed much of any lingering unease - well, at least for the direction they were taking at any rate. The look on Daisy’s face was about as stunned and disbelieving in this strange world as anyone else’s - though for some reason she simply couldn’t put her finger on, she had a sneaking suspicion the Reaper’s incredulity and unexpected irritation wasn’t entirely wrapped up in their propitious arrival.

And there was still the horrible laceration across Artie's back that Veti knew well she had positively no help for, no matter how well-intentioned and worried she might be. Healing wasn't her "thing," and it never was, and she had no idea what to do for hellhound.

Any more, of course, than she could help poor Nestor who, thankfully, Semyon was already intent on seeing set to rights. Still, she couldn’t help but wish the demonspawn had just a touch more control over his demonic soul, the infernal creature’s lewd suggestions both grating and repulsive to Veti’s already well-frayed nerves. No, the werewolf hadn’t suddenly grown a sense of propriety or prudery, but there was something… Well, [i]cruel [/i]really, it seemed, to mock the golem Adam. Oh, she might very well be coarse, crude, blunt, brutal, and far too at ease interlacing obscenity into her everyday language like a master weaver at her loom. 

But one thing she [i]wasn’t[/i], was cruel. And she just [i]hated[/i] that juvenile high school bully shit. [i][b]“Psh… Please do feel free to go get fucked on something frosty and spiked, Mistress No-Name,”[/i][/b] Veti growled under her breath as she moved to Adam, where he’d just set down the slightly stunned rusalka and the elvish necromancer who, it seemed, was most assuredly worse for wear. 

She moved to wrap one arm about the woman’s waist, bending down to offer the smaller lady a muscular shoulder to take if she would. Perhaps if Semyon proved useful to a battered Nestor, he might yet have an idea what to do with the elvish woman. [i][b]” Komum þér fast upp, Anastasia,”*[/i][/b] she said easily, and then Adam introduced himself to Vos’o’los.

The biggest, fang-filled grin cracked the werewolf’s maw as she chuckled deep and low in her throat. She somehow doubted the golem’s house keys were the true answer to their passage, no matter how he might value them, but… Surely Atticus, or at least Isis Herself, would have foreseen the arrival of a Vos’o’los. There was nothing about the creature that raised a single hackle on her neck, but his words still gave her pause. A… Key? That would be one [i]hell[/i] of an oversight, to get this far and then do the adventurer's equivalent of leaving the house with the clothes iron still on, or the oven burners going.

Her thoughts turned back to the mere hour ago they'd left, to the enigmatic parchment they'd been passed by Atticus. She'd meant to pass it on to whomever wanted to take a look at it next, but none had taken her up on the offer. Perhaps this might yet have an answer concerning the enigmatic key, because sure the hell it was... Definitely... Yes, it had to be.... [i]Yes![/i] Rright there in the inner pocket of her jacket, alongside her Harley keys - that she [i]sure[/i] the hell wasn't offering up to Mr. Rainbow Bottom. Veti pulled the map out, unfolding it with the free hand left to her after offering Anastasia the other, and staring at it curiously before looking back up to Vos'o'los.

[i]*(( "Let's get you fixed up, Anastasia." ))[/i]