Rayadell’s eyes narrowed slightly as she listened in to the guard’s hushed conversation, unsure if they would be allowed entrance. She glanced to Calanon seated in front of her. Though she could tolerate the cold, she had no idea how well her companion would fare in spending an unplanned wintery night in the woods, if it came to that.
	Thankfully, she would not have to find out. She pulled her hood back over her head as the gate opened. Their presence would be suspicious enough as it was in such small, isolated town. The last thing she needed was a breeze to brush her hair aside to display her curse’s mark for all to see.
	She glanced around her from beneat hedge of her hood as Borgach made his way through the snow-dusted dirt roads. The town was pleasantly lit, the flames of torches casting a warm, welcoming glow about them. 
	Wary and curious gazes glanced their way. Reflexively, Rayadell’s hand twitched to raise her staff when someone called out to them. Her attention snapped toward a rather youthful peasant standing just inside the gate, his dark gaze glittering with interest. But he had only help to offer.
	Rayadell nodded her thanks, unsure if the man saw as another, older man with a beard and puckered face scolded the youth. She returned her attention ahead as Calanon directed the elk. She tilted her head, ever listening for nay stray bits of conversation that could tip them off to any potential enemies.
	She glanced up when Calanon turned from his perch just to get a better look at her, without compromising his stability. 
	She raised her chin slightly at his question, trying to gague the emotion in his voice.”
	“For now, yes,” she answered simply. She gently gripped Calanon’s shoulder with her free hand as the elk turned left. “You’ve trained your beast well,” she commented offhandedly.