[center][b][color=crimson][h2]Xandar Markov[/h2][/color][/b][/center]

[center][color=crimson][h3][b]Ashkevron residence in Aren, Askavi. Front Parlor.[/b][/h3][/color][/center]

Xandar sighed and stretched a bit as he saw Faeril exit the room, seemingly going to attend to the chatter down the hall. His mind still raced as the thoughts and feelings of the last few minutes swirled in his head. The talks of a storm coming to the blood and whether he would be accepted confused him a bit, but he shook his head He knew that Widows had visions sometimes, but worrying about them now wouldn't change much. For right now, he just needed some rest and get rid of this headache.He would be staying there for at least a few days it seemed. 

He made sure his tunic covered his bandaging well, making it hardly noticeable as he wandered down the hall and into the front parlor. It seemed there was quite the commotion, and from what he could tell Dareen was the center of it. He heard something along the lines of dying blah blah blah, being guilty, this and that. He could only assume Faeril was going to check over her mind like she did his to figure out her true intentions. Honestly he could care less about the woman, and if she died? Maybe it would be easier. There would sure be a hell of a lot less sarcasm and complaining coming out of her disrespectful opening she called a mouth. If Faeril didn't kill her, he was certainly tempted. It would make things a lot easier for all parties involved, he didn't even know why these people would bother with a yellow jeweled witch like this. He wasn't even going to begin to speculate on the other Eyriens or Mikhail, gods only knew what their major malfunctions were, although he had a few guesses. It seemed even Mikhail was interjecting and defending the woman, which was odd, as far as he was concerned the two hadn't ever met each other. It wasn't as much supportive as saying "You'll be fine", but the fact he was even talking to the Witch was something in of itself. Still, he wasn't overly concerned with Mikhail either, and the brooding man could bicker all he wanted among the other two Eyriens about this and that. The assassin worried more than a mother letting her child play with a sword. 

Xandar decided to sit down on one of the chairs, casually, quietly, and yawn as he layed back and closed his eyes, putting his hands behind his head. Xandar even chuckled a bit before yawning, getting himself comfortable. He seemed as if he didn't have a care in the world, and he felt it was beneath him to speak to Dareen about the matter. He was going to say something witty but he hadn't the energy, he would simply let things play out and not give any party the satisfaction. The whole ordeal was trivial, even quite comical, a simple procedure blown way out of proportion and emotions being riled up when nodding your head and listening to your superior would be simple and easy. This didn't require an entire group discussion. Xandar certainly didn't need to speak either. He got what he needed, and now he would respect Faeril and lay low for a bit until needed until he was in better shape to go off and attend to his own agenda.