“Thank you,” Thayva said, showing her teeth in a warm smile at the kind gesture.
	At the table, Thayva took a piece of the mutton and placed it on the remainder of her bread and cheese, and took a bite, savoring the flavor. 
	“Besides the obvious,” Thayva began, trying to lighten the mood if only by a tiny bit, “how was your morning?”

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	Nick gave him a look that said, “What’s your point?” as he recited the rules. The elf crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised, as Jorn paused again in thought.
	“Now you’re talking.” Nick grinned, and followed the others. “I need a break from trying to decipher that stupid book.” He frowned, his head starting to hurt just from the thought of it. He had spent months of his free time on it, and he still had made so little progress. “I think someone wrote it just to annoy me.”
	Nick glanced around them watchfully, looking for any sign of the staff.
	“You know,” he began as they walked, “maybe we’ll even run into that dwarf girl... What’s her name again?” He looked to Aurelian in mock thought. “Laura, or something like that?”

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	“It is,” Kia nodded vigorously at Laura’s comment. She watched, amusement glittering in her green eyes.
	“True,” Laya stretched her legs out in front of her and leaned back on her hands. “But wouldn’t you want someone who [i]could[/i] fight, in that case? Someone you know could watch your back?” She glanced to Belle, who had pulled a few rather unusual odds and ends from her bag, including the wad of parchment and quill she had had out earlier, a ball of twine with a wooden peg attached to one end, a rope necklace with what looked like a miniature petrified octopus tentacle dangling from it, a small pouch that had opened slightly, allowing the muddled daylight to glint off what looked like marbles inside, and a little wooden box.
	Noticing Laura’s gaze, Belle glanced up. “I haven’t cleaned this thing in [i]ages[/i],” she explained, a gust of wind blowing through her hair.

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	The mute halfling stole along the hallways, his bare feet silent against the stone floor. Determined to put as much distance between him and his archenemy, he found himself nearly on the opposite side of the mansion. Finding a classroom emptied for the day, he stole inside.
	The child cast a quick glance around the room, then began collecting the cushions, stacking as many as he could in his small arms, and taking them to a corner. He laid them out in the start of a bed shape, then went back for a couple more trips.
	Satisfied with the number of cushions he had piled up--a number that had all but cleared the tables of them--he plopped down on his make-shift mattress with a contented, tired sigh. Still listening for any sign that it was time to head to the kitchen, he propped his head up so he could look out the window he faced, watching the clouds as they billowed through the sky, picking out various shapes in them.
	Soon, the child found himself dozing off, the comfort of the cushions welcoming him into sleep.