Things were going smoothly. 

Bluffing his way around was second-nature to Souma, a skill that proved useful in all classes and standings. The wealthy and powerful were easy to convince of your own importance, the hardworking quick to believe that you had work to do as well. To fear, to distrust brought far too much risk when the act was done well. No one wanted to ring false alarm, and everyone was content to believe what let them avoid confrontation.

Because of that, he and Galina set about their work with ease.

Souma directing and talking, Galina running and working, both fitting easily into the brother/brother act that suited the scene. If anyone, they might soon find something was wrong with the number of workers running about, with what supplies were being loaded onto what carts. If anyone pried further, they might narrow down the suspects, and eventually find them out. It was the risk of infiltration, no matter how carefully done. They were a flaw in this clan's tapestry, a small loop of thread that worked against the larger image. Easy to overlook, but standing out to a close inspection, it was a risk that grew larger with every moment that passed them by.

So they worked. Quickly, efficiently, smoothly. They picked out what they would need and got them loaded on the cart, secured and set ready to go.

"I know I will, [i]Aniki[/i]." Teeth shone in his grin once more, as he set their cart to moving. How could he not enjoy any 'present' Galina might have? And in the wake of such a successful -so far- mission, spirits were rising to startling new heights. A good night, a good start to what will have to be a good revenge. The beginning set the tone for it all, and Souma was quite liking the tone...

"...Though, may need spoil, sooner..."

The tone soured, slightly, as Souma spotted trouble brewing around them. Someone had found the courage to question, a supervisor now visible near the back, talking to a couple men and glancing at their slow-moving cart. He and Galina weren't free yet, not from the warehouse and not from the compound, and it looked like soon the men of this clan would realize what was happening. His hands gripped staff and reins tightly, eyes glaring out from under his hat, watching for the sign that they would make a move.

"Catching on," His words were a whisper, low and cold, the slightest tilt of his head indicating the direction of the supervisor in question. "Running hard here, will fight. Unless... bring Christmas, more early."