[center][h3][color=00aeef]Ianthe[/color][/h3][/center]
Forests, were unfamiliar territory for Ianthe. Aside from the crops, Argo had been a fairly desolate place insofar as flora were concerned. And fauna. And people. Desolate of just about everything but bandits and fiends, really. But the unfamiliar beasts hanging in the guild hall hadn’t dissuaded her, and a few trees certainly weren’t going to, either. 

She hadn’t fussed over the supplies too much. Potions and the like were standard, as Balder had mentioned, and while the aldite was a slight divergence from that, the stones were—practically speaking—entirely useless to her. Ianthe had seen magic only a few times, and most often it was wielded by whatever eleventh-rate mage the bandits could get their hands on, or by a traveling magician visiting the market towns. Neither had particularly impressed her, but then, being inept with the arcane herself, she wasn’t exactly a good litmus for what was and was not “good” magic. Regardless of all that, the closest thing she had to slots in her arms and armor were the countless chips and dents riddling them. So the tiny gemstones stayed in their bag. Maybe they’d fetch a few extra coin when this was all over. 

She kept her sword sheathed as they walked, though her hand rested upon the hilt, and the shield strapped to her offhand was more important if they were going to be ambushed. There was something wrong to her about traveling with a naked blade, something almost feral, like an invitation to violence. Weapons put people on edge, that was half their job, in her mind, and it seemed like most of their group was wound up tightly enough as it was. 

She’d watched the tinker boy cobble together a few grenades, and that was entertaining, if completely beyond her. The spear-wielding girl joined her and Avaddon at the front with Balder, and that was pleasant. She was confident, like the rest, but less…abrasively. And that weapon, Ianthe guessed, had seen its share of uses. 

Behind them, among the parts of the party she and the others at Balder’s side were meant to protect, Ianthe couldn’t help but notice Luna looked…off. Nervous was the word, like the boy Edgar had seemed back at the hall. Now that they’d left the warmth of the city though, and the tinker no longer seemed as worked up, Luna was still the same, if not worse. Ianthe had made a point not to judge those who looked out of place, but it would have been beyond bad form to leave that sort of nervousness unaddressed. 

It was too bad she had absolutely no idea how to go about addressing it. 

Confident that the trio of Balder, Avaddon and Mitra could handle the front for the moment, Ianthe dropped back a few paces, beside Luna. She gave the girl a gentle nudge with her elbow, hoping not to spook her, and offered a reassuring thumbs-up. Or maybe it was more of an inquisitive thumbs-up. Or maybe it just seemed patronizing, and made her look like an asshole. Maybe it was an asshole thumbs-up.

Words, Ianthe. You’re a big girl. Use your words.

[color=00aeef]“Hey,”[/color] she offered. [color=00aeef] “Uhm…cool bow.”[/color]

Cool bow. [i]Cool Bow[/i]. Cool Bow. Cool Bow. Cool Bow. Cool Bow. Cool Bow.