It was uncomfortable, out here in the middle of the throne room. There weren't any walls, any nooks or crannies to hide in, and the light that poured in through the massive windows was unnatural, fractured into colors the sun herself had never painted. It might have been beautiful if you could look at it with the right eyes. But for Wri, it was merely uncomfortable. She hovered at the edge of the ragtag group standing before the High Lord, keeping a respectful but guarded stance. The High Lord's words washed over her as she inspected her new companions.

The 'brave souls.' Presumably the best people the High Lord could muster for this particular mostly-hopeless venture. Two rough-looking old soldiers. One gangly young man. A sickly boy with a fragile demeanor. The High Lord's voice meandered into silence for a moment, and Wri closed her eyes. Water-sick Travelers, the lot of them.

Although, Wri supposed, she was a Traveler too, now. She had been trying to push that thought from her mind for the duration of her trip to the capital, but there it was. She had left Eerum behind, given in when he had pushed too hard. Perhaps she wasn't strong enough to live in Eerum after all. Perhaps there was something more to it. Perhaps if Liem... but that was all pointless speculation. She was here now, and that made her a Traveler, even if she did avoid their nightly binges and keep mostly to herself.

The High Lord began to speak again after his short pause, and a shiver ran down Wri's spine. Despite how unbearably stuffy their halls were, the citizens of the capital still managed to keep everything uncomfortably cool. No one else seemed to be bothered by it, however, so she thought it best not to complain. That would only show weakness, something that she most certainly couldn't afford. So instead of complaining, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and did her best not to shake visibly. As the High Lord's speech reached its conclusion, she began to cautiously look around the room to see how her companions reacted.