Bastian had let Elizabeth down before she had answered the question. She appeared frustrated with Elizabeth's answer. The woman’s words cut like a knife. But being headstrong, it only dulled the blade attempting to pierce a solid stone block. [i][color=0072bc]“I could have easily fought someone off with my arms tied behind my back! I’m not going to have someone like her make a fool out of me!”[/color][/i] Bastian thought briefly glancing at Elizabeth to check her distance from him, clenching his fists and stepping forward with an adamant stomp. Grabbing and drawing his blade halfway out of the strap with his opposite paw. Her reaction speed outpaced his, swiftly lifting her long leg, performing a 180 degree twirl. Holding a small dagger in-between her toes, centimeters away from Bastian’s neck. Before Bastian could even finish pulling out his sword, causing him to cease his actions. Bastian clenched his teeth, retaining a reserved expression, watching the woman smirk.

[color=a187be]“Not dumb enough to try fighting an expert in killing dum-dum’s with all brawn and no brains are we?”[/color] She chided. Analyzing her eyes reflecting an impending desire for bloodlust, her patience seemed tested by restraining herself from sticking his jugular vein with the dagger. Answering with begrudging silence, Bastian sheathed the sword, clenching the hilt. Rubbing the back of his neck with his other paw, before scratching a sudden itch coming from his chest. She dropped her foot down, letting out her own sigh, prancing over to Elizabeth. Suddenly disrobing, revealing casual street clothing underneath, tossing the extra layer over Elizabeth’s soaked dress. She gave her a warm smile.

[color=a187be]“Dum-dum di’ant pak yall spare clothes? Yall cat your death of cold.”[/color] The woman spoke with her previously broken dialect, chiding him again for failing to bring extra clothes. Bastian crossed his arms, hardly being able to see anything from inside the gate, being shrouded by fog.

[color=0072bc]“I would’ve had her change clothes, if whoever transported my wagon would have left my stuff present-”[/color] Bastian said.
 
[color=a187be]“Yes, leaven em ya stuff, for bandats to rob ya blind. Smart thought dum-dum.”[/color] She interrupted, turning to face Bastian, just understandable enough for Bastian to realize the mocking continued.

[color=0072bc]“Why did you go back to speaking that way, if you only did that to catch us off guard? How would know anything about my father? Why would he associate himself with one of the assassin’s guilds?”[/color] Bastian questioned, crossing his arms. The woman gave him a prolonged glare, before taking the dagger and shoving into the dirt. Watching her meticulously crafting an image within the dirt. Creating another skull similar to before, closing her eyes briefly, the skull on the ground and the tattoo on her leg both started glowing red. She proceeded to gently tap her forehead then her neck, letting out a sharp breath.

[color=a187be]“Because, I only use manipulation magic for language when I wish to intimidate. Otherwise, it’s wasting my reserves. Especially, when it’s spent talking to someone who shelters rocks inside their skull.”[/color] She explained putting her hands on her hips, words dripping with contempt. Licking the blood from her upper lip, coming down from her nose. [color=a187be]“Everything’s already prepared, just step through the fog and you can be on your way and out of my sight.”[/color]