Without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Vellia began running back to the room she had seen Talbot in. Realizing that the people were still arguing, Vellia walked in the room and grabbed the thief. [b]"Give Talbot his instrument back,"[/b] she demanded, having heard enough bits of their conversation to understand what had been going on. [b]"That isn't a request this time."[/b]

Then she let go and turned toward the girl with the stave in her hand. [b]"And you,"[/b] Vellia stated firmly, stomping her foot. [b]"If you ever shave his head again, or any of our heads, for that matter, I'll make sure yours is turned into a flag decoration. For crying out loud, you two, can't you see he's in bad enough shape without being picked on and tormented?"[/b] Vellia huffed, then sat on the side of the bed that Talbot's back was toward.

[b]"You're not allowed to try to be the hero anymore, Tal,"[/b] she said, softer now, [b]"I . . . I felt like I should have . . . um . . . stopped you. I thought you had . . . you know . . . died, and . . . The group had already lost one of their . . . er . . . one person, and you could have been another . . . and I thought it was because . . . I thought it was my fault."[/b] She suddenly realized how quickly she had grown attached to Talbot, all because he had offered friendship. All because he was the first person she had been able to actually have a conversation with in a long time. She felt childish, but only cared at this point that she hadn't been the cause for another death in the party.