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Everyone gathered in the library and waited for the next turn of events. 

The two groups convened and several Lost Souls took the chance to talk with one another. Avian was a few ways off from the group, one hand absentmindedly rubbing a cheek where the chair from earlier grazed him while the other one gripped the Midnight Man’s sword tightly. He didn’t know if the “game” included bringing the sword back to the library, but he wasn’t taking any chances; that event earlier where he skewered the apparition was unnerving because for a second there the soldier really thought that the Midnight Man wasn’t vanquished.

Jasper had a few cuts on her hand from that skirmish earlier and Avian was there to tend to her wounds. Wait, scratch that; all members of the group were subjected to a thorough inspection by none other than the soldier himself, and nobody was free from his fussy remarks. Not even Martini. In the end, every single Lost Soul who had a wound resurfaced with a makeshift herb bandage. The warm look on Avian’s face showed that he was relieved that nobody in his group suffered worrisome injuries and that was that. When the other team arrived he moved away to make room for them. Seeing no other purpose for the time being, the dragoon stood watch over the group, his distant position and rigid stance making him look like a stone sentinel. 

Songbird sat just outside the irregular circle the humans have formed and sighed to himself, swigging from a suspicious-looking flask as he shot glances at various nooks and corners every now and then. He got up and approached the fashion trio. “So, uh… Good job finding the woo woo,” He made exaggerated gestures and then pointed at the sword. “And nooo Martini I’m nooot modeling wearing the alpaca hat. It’s too fluffy to just wear! … Are you two going to wear the alpaca hat?” He turned to Lesley and Leon.