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[i][b]DO[/b] you see the road, she says!
Do you see the end?
Do you see our destination,
Up around the bend?

What of [color=8493ca]pave[/color] and promised beds?
Do you see them too?
The crows within their [color=ed1c24]murder[/color],
With caws upon a cue?

[b]One[/b] would spell misfortune,
A [b]pair[/b] the other way,
[b]Three[/b] will keep you [color=39b54a]healthy[/color],
And [b]four[/b], with [color=aba000]wealth[/color], have sway,

[b]Five[/b] will bring a [color=598527]sickness[/color],
To rot you inside out,
And [b]six[/b] cry bloody [color=ed1c24]murder[/color],
In all their noisy shouts.[/i]

Came her rhyming reply to Ninty. She didn't actually answer her question though, which in her own mind was cute, she thought it was a better response than simply just telling her 'No' and that she was just sort of milling behind Timothy and trying her darndest to not get left in his dust. The smile [color=00BFFF]Brann[/color] had flashed her in that quick moment still had her beaming. She walked with an easy bounce in her hooves, even as the elven merchant ahead of them continued to draw the ire of the party. Syfa thought herself rather forgiving with people like that, especially in his position, leading a bunch of hardened adventurers wasn't going to be stress-free. Maybe he'd actually forgotten where they were meant to be going, she mulled the thought over for a while. Still, it wasn't like she could catch up with him and ask. At least, not without getting winded on the run up toward him, and she was happy at her steady bouncing pace.

She looked toward the sky for a bit, the view ahead had bored her when she realized it was much the same. She spied the crows in their trees, counting them up to see which omen they were a portent for, when she was satisfied, she stared upward and shared the same view of blue that [color=fff79a]Samuel[/color] had been enjoying. A natural romantic, in every sense of the word. She decided it wasn't really her lot in this group to worry over where they were going, or why they hadn't reached it yet. In her previous mercenary company all she had to worry about was the flow of her poetry, the sound of her songs and the punch of her jokes. She saw no reason to change the winning formula.

Stopping to give a lazy stretch, she noticed [color=00BFFF]Brann[/color] had caught up to her and Ninty, and flashed a smile his way. She just wanted to ruffle his hair but mustered enough willpower to refrain from embarrassing him (or herself) for little reason than a whim. [color=00a651]"I like jesters, personally. All the little bells they wear are just [i]darling[/i], aren't they?"[/color] Her smile was infectious, and she was obviously trying her best to spread it to the curmudgeon elf and the dashing spellsword.
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