Tackled to the ground, Sybil thought at first the man was attacking her.  There was a warmth in her fingertips as she gripped a clump of dirt with a fist, a faint glow barely illuminating from beneath the earth.  It wasn't until she saw the scorpion on his dagger that she relaxed, free hand moving to the place on her shoulder where she hadn't even felt the creature crawling.  Saying nothing to his boasting, she allowed him to have it as it had been a true statement.  He had saved her life twice now.  The girl sat up in the dirt, staring at him curiously.  Though she'd been planning to sneak off and break away from him once they reached their destination, it crossed her mind that he might have some use after all.

Not ever venturing past the city or the forest, Sybil didn't know much about the rest of the world or what to expect.  The thought of through a rough part of town, even with her magic, still scared her—she didn't feel she could trust anyone at the moment, except perhaps Dalious, and brought her knees close to her chest.  

“Grefolin,” she mused, trying the name on her tongue.  She scrunched her nose up at the sound of it; she didn't like it.  Nor did she like the dwarf for betraying Dalious' friends.  A slow nod as she could understand wanting retribution for what the dwarf had done ,she said, “Then lets kill him.”  The words came out as casually as if they'd been discussing the weather.  Tilting her head to the side, she frowned slightly at his request.  Always the one to oppose violence, she had only killed now because her hand was forced.  Her gaze drifting towards the ground, she wondered if this was what all people thought of the malignant.  A pang of sorrow gripped her chest as she thought about her mother thinking that, at one point in time, the callous woman might have been just as naive as Sybil herself had once been.

Picking herself off the ground, she coolly stated, “I will not kill them if they give me no reason to.”  Perhaps she should linger in the woods instead, find a cave, and live out the remainder of her days in a peaceful solitude protected by the forest.  Mounting Altair as the rest of the horses scattered off into the forest, they proceeded on their way to the little crime ridden gambling town Dalious had mentioned.  Keeping her head lowered to the ground, Sybil wished she had some sort of disguise to keep her camouflaged and hidden.  The young girl stood out among the dark hooded cloaks and dirty thieves even if she did look like a beggar covered in ash and soot.  

Leaving their horses by the tavern inn, she followed closely behind Dalious—a little too close as she occasionally clipped at his heels.  A frown on her face, she told him, “I don't like it here.”