Rayadell glanced to Calanon when the elf gave his answer, watching him rub one arm. 
	Thea gripped her husband’s hand and beamed at Calanon. “Thank you.” She looked pleadingly to Rayadell, awaiting her response with what looked like fearful anticipation.
	Rayadell raised her chin, then nodded slowly, suddenly more conscious of the hair draped over her own dark mark. Even a slim chance based on a rumor was more hope of breaking her curse than she had had in years. “You know the only payment I desire. And just trying is enough.”
	The couple breathed a sigh of relief.
	“Of course, we’ll provide you both a place to sleep for the night, and any provisions you’ll need for your journey, as well as a map.” Thea stirred her soup absently. “If either of you have any questions, please, ask.” She looked to Rayadell’s untouched bowl. “Your food’s getting cold, hon.”
	Rayadell glanced down to the bowl, her spoon still resting, unused, between her fingers. Slowly, she placed it into the broth and began eating the delectable stew, the hunger gnawing in her stomach egging her on.
	“You travel with an elk, right?” Merek asked Calanon, returning to his food. “We have an empty stall in the stables if you’d like to shelter him there for the night.”
	“And I’m sure we have some feed somewhere that he’ll like.” Thea gave one of her friendly smiles. 
	Ignoring his wife’s glare, Merek raised the bowl to his mouth to finish off its contents. “I can take care of that if you’d like.”