[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191220/a6c150240d48a4c0abc89362cb7392f7.png[/img][/center] [center] Camp [/center] Dareen had time to fume on her way over, though she was still annoyed at her outfit. But by the time she had arrived at the camp and the sun was setting, her unusually flared temper had settled. Putting some distance between herself and the Black jeweled interloper had helped. SaDiablo. Another one of the Queen's pawns? But he had let them go. Apparently things were always more complicated than they seemed and the others weren't sure what to make of it. But Dareen had been distracted the entire time, and while she thought she might be able to get used to this disguise, she honestly, really couldn't. And everyone else just had a shitty time, too. Fatima looked totally out of it. Probably had something to do with the effects darker jewels had on her. Dareen wasn't so sure if her having a lighter jewel was a good thing or a bad thing. But she couldn't spend a minute more in this dress. Dareen vanished inside the cabin and emerged a few minutes later back in her old dusty desert nomad outfit, complete with hood. She had rubbed some of the make up off but she didn't want to waste any water on washing it off. The Pruulish witch had been mostly silent whenever she and the others interacted. She still wasn't entirely sure on where she stood with Faeril or Xandar. But she was here to help. This was, as best as she could tell, her cause now. She was looking for a purpose and she had found it. This dysfuntional little group of misfits. Darkness help her, Dareen thought. She would ruminate more deeply on her purpose in life later. Right now it was time to relax a little bit. Walking with her learned toughness, no longer having to conceal herself, Dareen was happy to be walking on the grave of Ranina. Still, she had vanished the dress just in case. After all, they spent so much time making it. So the mercenary stood by the fire, her arms crossed, saber recently summoned and stored on the sheathe at her hip. Though her bow, quiver, shield, and knives were still vanished. After a moment she frowned and extended her palm for a canteen of ale to appear in. She unscrewed the tap and took a swig. It had been a while, and it tasted bad but it made her feel good. Relaxed. She looked to the people who happened to be closest to her- Mikhail and Fatima- and swished the flask around, offering it to them wordlessly.