“You know, I couldn’t tell you!” Giriel lets out a hearty laugh. Kayl deserved that and it was better to enjoy his antics than to let all the things that might worry her bring down the mood as they traveled. She was already a witch and having a hard time finding a guide, she didn’t need to add to the reputation of moody shadow-girls, even if she [i]did[/i] like wearing all black. 

“I mean, the mother of witches is already a legend. Most of us just learn from family or friends. It’s magic, but the learning process isn’t all that different from how you learned to herd sheep or sow up a torn poncho.” She offers Kayl a chuckle and a slap on the shoulder. “I don’t think the priestesses and I ought to be in competition though. I’d happily work with them, and they’d be fools trying to assign us witches penance instead of sharing wisdom. Half the time they come up here newly trained thinking they can conquer anything with the purity of their hearts and their strength of arm only to find themselves trussed up by the N’yari, if they’re lucky, or a hungry demon if they’re unlucky.”

Giriel gave Kayl a smile that was half friendly reassurance and half suggesting that she might enjoy seeing him trussed up and slung over a kitty’s shoulder.  

Behind that smile, as he turned to lead her further along the mountain paths, she placed a hand upon the flute within her belt pouch. She wanted to have it close. It hurt her more that people who ought to know better would throw things and try to chase her off, but that could be fixed with time even if it dragged down her spirits. Demons though, demons were a problem and the boy’s description was too accurate by half. People didn’t usually know that tidbit about burning rocks. And if he really had seen demons, well, she’d have to do something about that. They couldn’t be left alone, they’d end up kidnapping and killing people, or corrupting things somehow. Things always got so weird with demons, they never seemed to want the same things and each one had some special aspect to it. And of course, there was a summoner around somewhere, even if they weren’t here right now. 

This just felt so bad. N’yari were proud and aggressive, but Giriel didn’t know them to be sacrilegious like this. And with demons being around too, ugh. She worried these things were connected. Maybe they were deceived, being led wrong, or it was actually demons stirring up the dead and Red Wolf just didn’t know that and assumed it was the N’yari scuffling with her soldiers. That would be an easy mistake to make and [i]would[/i] explain the symbolism in the tea leaves showing demonic activity. That felt too easy though. Giriel knew better when it came to the mystic arts than to assume that you had everything figured out. The omens gave you exactly what they gave you, and if you read into it and then assumed you could never be wrong, you were either a lucky fool or a dead fool. 

So Giriel laughed and teased this fool shepherd boy who was too brave and cute to know he ought to be afraid, and at the same time she kept a hand on her flute and her wits about her as they wound their way up old mountain paths to the graves.