The sound of the Imperial and the Bosmer returning from the entrance to the barrow piqued Raelynn’s interest and she raised an eyebrow at the absence of the Khajit. Of course, it was just like a Khajit to be first to skulk off into the tomb. Entirely like a Khajit. It looked, from a quick glance that the Bosmer was feeling similarly about it. After all, this tomb had been her finding - she had a lot of stake in this run. It was her discovery - it was hers. Raelynn believed very strongly in ‘finders keepers’… Part of the reason she didn’t like Daro’Vasora running off first. The thief would probably pick the place clean and fill her boots with Septims, jewels, and all manor of treasures and claim the barrow to be empty.  

She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the Bosmer, Sjara, she was very beautiful - [i]for a Bosmer[/i]. She wasn’t as harshly angled like some, she didn’t have the bony limbs or bedraggled hair and a protruding brow. She was soft. Something about her showed on her skin and in her demeanour that there was more to her than she was letting on to the others. Of course, she had given the explanation that she was a ‘Nord-Raised’ Bosmer - whatever that meant, Raelynn had almost dozed off during her introduction to the group. The only one of the group that had stood out to her was the drunk and the only reason for that was the god awful stench of alcohol.

She hadn’t even made a great introduction herself, she was of course polite and warm as she could be, told them her name and credentials and that was enough. Why the extreme formalities and effort to get to know a bunch she would be spending a few days at best with? Besides, you learn what makes a man (or woman) when you’re underground in the caves, surrounded by Skeletons, Draugrs, and Bandits. The true self lunges forth when life is threatened. That is, it either lunges forward bravely or crumbles away like old bones. There are no airs or graces in the heat of battle. She would soon see what each of her companions were made of - and they would see the real her too. 

Hector, the leader of this group was casting his eyes - like everyone else, at everyone else. It seemed this first meal together was full of intense gazing - as if trying to suss each other out intuitively - getting insight into each other from body language and the way they ate food, how they drank, even how they were sitting - where they were sitting even said a lot about a person. She herself had chosen to sit on the log furthest from the others - even if she was sat next Skall, her log had the most distance from everyone. She chose to perch very gracefully on her seat too, unlike Skall who sat comfortably, his legs spread open with an arm resting on his knee. He sat like a mans man. Dominant and alpha in style. His posture said “I’m HERE” very loudly, and very disruptively.  

She could see that the Imperial was taking it all in, perhaps he was as perceptive as her on these matters. Does he really trust us all? Can I trust him? were the next thoughts that sprung into her mind as she stirred a pot of simmering water, sat close to the fire, taking from her belongings a small pouch with the other hand. 

She fished out a selection of dried petals from the cloth pouch and tossed them into the water - a good handful of blue mountain flower and lavender toppled down through the steam - landing like paper on the surface of the water. It immediately illuminated, a swirl of blue then lilac rose as steam, dispersing a sweet and floral scent with it. It quickly fizzled back to being just steam. She carefully lifted the pot, stirring it still, slowly as she stood up this time, pot in hand she went round in a circle, pouring out into each and everyone of their mugs, flagons, and cups a portion of the water - no matter what had already been in there. She had already noticed that Hector had nothing in his hands, and so she knelt down by their supplies to pick him up a small cup which she filled with the last of the liquid, before bringing it over to him, a smile playing on her lips.

“I know what you’re thinking…” she said softly, so only he could hear “but it’s not a potion, it’s just brewed flowers, it will rejuvenate you for when we enter. It’s warm too so it will help you to feel fuller…” She held out the cup in both hands, presenting it to him to take, her eyes locked onto his. “It’s a shame the Khajit doesn’t get to have the benefit of a healers preparation… If I’d have known she was to enter early I may have had time to prepare her too… I guess she just won’t be as ready as we are…” her smile flickered to a smirk, back to a sickly sweet smile. She didn’t want to be entirely rude to Hector (not just yet, anyway), but she wanted him to know that she disapproved of him sending in party members without at least consulting her.

“This will go down a treat, I’m sure. Keep your strength up…” as she spoke she freed her left hand to give his arm a gentle touch; it was faux comfort, and served only as an extra bite to her previous comment.