Emmaline paced around the small but trying to decide if she should go and look for Amal. I totally she was dissuaded by the thought that he has likely just ducked out to answer the call of nature. As the minutes dragged on a less hostile but also less understandable woman came to the Hutt with some crusty bread and two earthenware pots containing a steaming stew of venison and barley. After a few minutes of increasingly fruitless effort to penetrate the girls dialect Emmaline sent her away with a smile and a wave.

These people clearly had very little, at least by Imperial standards but they seemed willing to share it freely, at least so Emmaline hoped. Her suspicious nature worried that they might be incurring some sort of debt but there was little she could do about it if so. Just as she finally resolved to go in search of Amal, the thief appeared out of the mixture of fog and peat smoke that shrouded the village. He looked very pleased with himself for some reason.

"There you are!" She called in Araybian, scratching at the coause wollen dress with irritation. She was extremely pleased at the decision to keep the elven silk as a shift.

"We have food," she reported as Amal came through the door. Impulsively she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

"And for once no one is trying to kill us!"