Rhen mulled the Crimson Marauder's words. Was that Infernal he spoke? Which dialect? The changeling was hardly fluent, but she replied, [color=ed1c24]"Gar cuyir a adiik, Draar ve'ganir o'r ner ara."[/color] She ducked her head. "I know I'm not good at your language, but I can learn. And I can offer you companionship in return. My kind understand how badly mortals need touch and connection."

She stepped away from him, balancing her book on one hand and dictating the recent occurences. "Most worryingly, the grass has changed colour as the sun set. While similar things have been known in our world, the experts in our party appear quite worried. A lack of animal life in the area gives us ample reason to make for rocky ground." Shutting the book, she took hold of the horses' reins and began to urge them and the cart towards the hill.

For all the Crimson Marauder's fearsome reputation, deserved or not, he was still a man. Yes, half his soul was a demon, but her kind had infernal blood in them, yet another reason why changelings lived in the blind spot of society. As Rhen walked, she took care to subtly accentuate her current form in her motions. If the Marauder was watching, his human mind should take notice. And if someone else did, then she might not have to sleep alone anyway. 

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