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[right][sub][@Obscene Symphony][@Scribe of Thoth][/sub][/right][hr]
Lilann had just about started out of the cemetery when she noticed Kyreth wasn’t following, yet. At first she thought he had seen something horrific, muttering to himself with his hand held to his chest. Perhaps whatever had carved these marks had returned to do its job properly. Then, however, she noticed that he was in fact praying.  

Arguably, that was worse. 

There were few things more baffling to Lilann than religious Tainted. Kyreth wasn’t the first she’d ever met, but he was among only a handful, and all of them had been plain [i]odd.[/i] It made no sense to her. How does a pig worship the butcher? The firewood the fire? Then again, how does one hail the divine with sacrilege in their blood? Perhaps for them, oddity was necessary. For a moment the precariousness of their situation was lost to her, and she thought to ask him about his faith—or prod him for it, which might have been just as entertaining. Unfortunately, they were interrupted, and reality quickly caught back up. 

[color=AA4A44]“If this is supposed to look like a funerary vigil, you did a terrible job.”[/color]

Damn. 

The man emerged from the brush like some wild hog with a nasty sword in hand—had he been hiding in there? He was nearly as tall as Kyreth, but looked to have two or three stone on him. He asked after the marks on the ground, as she’d feared he would, and sinking instinct told her this man was likely a Soft Haven guardsman come to round up the troublesome Tainted stinking up their cemetery. But the pompous disdain in his eyes and the swagger of import belied something else, something rougher. 

Kyreth practically prostrated himself in panic, offering to turn out his own pockets in exchange for, she assumed, his life—not that it would take much excusing to hang the both of them. As he went on, Lilann’s eyes narrowed on the man born from the hedge. She noted scars and mars of all sorts wherever skin was visible, including the one splitting his brow. His haircut was peculiar, though she couldn’t place it, and his clothes bore neither the colors of Soft Haven nor the style of Finnagund. And he was dirty as well, less in the way one would get from hiding in a brush, and more from lying on the ground. 

As Kyreth’s pleading withered into mumbling, Lilann relaxed. The tension ebbed out of her shoulders, and she stepped subtly closer to Kyreth, putting herself between him and the hedgeman. 

[color=skyblue]“You’re not from here, are you.”[/color] she said, more than asked. A comfortable grin returned to her lips. Even if he wasn’t a guard, any human could make a world of trouble for them, but this way things were less immediately dangerous. Still, she thought it best not to test the man with the sword pointed at them, regardless of his station. [color=skyblue]“My friend speaks the truth, we awoke to those marks, but we don’t know what made them. I’ll admit to having felt some eeriness in the night, but if you came looking for demons, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”[/color]

She glanced at Kyreth, then to the bounds of the cemetery. It was still imperative that they leave sooner than later. Just because the first ruffian to find them wasn’t a guard didn’t mean the next one wouldn’t be. 

[color=skyblue]“You’re more than welcome to dig around if you’d like, but we’re due at the Bounty House, and I don’t mean to be late.”[/color]

Part of her wanted to leave it at that, just turn and walk off and pray Kyreth was savvy enough to follow. She’d turned her back to blades before and left with her spine unsevered, but this felt…different. Bad, different. Perhaps it was the marks, or the feeling that had visited her in the night, or the talk of demons. Perhaps it was all three. Either way, she felt it best to wait until the man dismissed them, or at least lowered his sword, before trying to leave.