[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220419/d955e440c95ac6f731dc5e649ad359eb.png[/img][/center][hr]Damned, but she’d about given up trying to read Cerric. He had in impossible way about him, an unhinged sort of charisma that inclined her to believe him, at the same time that it cast the shadow of doubt on his every word. For some, sincerity was the cost for sincerity, but he seemed to only pay in halves—which was fair, for she’d tried to cheat him on the deal herself. To be entirely honest, the thought of what his true sincerity might entail disturbed her.

“[color=skyblue]I suspect we could fill libraries with the things he knows that we don’t,[/color]” she replied to Kyreth just as quietly. “[color=skyblue]For now, I’m choosing to believe that works in our favor, or it least in our client’s.[/color]”

She stood aside from the wagon with him, nodding a greeting to Eila. She allowed herself a small amount of pity for the woman, strictly on account of her inexplicable kindness towards Kyreth the other day. Technically Cerric’s warnings were right, but she suspected his dressing down of Eila was meant more as a message to the lot of them. Professionalism was expected, standards were paramount. 

[color=8E939E]“Wait, Lilann, where’s your bag?”[/color]

Shit. 

“[color=skyblue]Shit.[/color]” She flipped hopelessly through her satchel, as if ten days’ worth of rations might be hiding beneath the whittling knife. Dammit all, she’d lost so much time yesterday, and that infuriatingly cryptic dream had occupied her mind all morning. 

“[color=skyblue]Looks like I’ll be sampling the flavors of the Finnagund wilds,[/color]” she said, trying not to sound as dejected as she felt. Hunting would be more than a little difficult, considering she’d lost her sword. She’d foraged before, on the longer and less fortunate journeys back in Dranir, but most of her life had been spent earning her food through performance. Somehow, she doubted the woods would trade game for tavern gossip. “[color=skyblue]I’ll try to keep away from mushrooms, but if I start hallucinating, Kyreth, do make sure I don’t embarrass myself.[/color]”

As if fate meant to mock her, the brute’s voice invaded her mind and there was a quiet jolt from Lilann as she strangled a yelp to death beneath her mask. His warning not to look around came too late, but with her face hidden she was at least subtle about it. A knot formed in her gut at what he told them. She wanted to scream at him, say: [color=skyblue][i]I saw it![/i][/color] but she kept herself calm. Hopefully they would have a chance to convene before the storm—and whatever might be dwelling within it—were upon them. 

“[color=skyblue]Kyreth,[/color]” she spoke softly, keeping up beside him. “[color=skyblue]That’s it. That’ll be the beast.[/color]”

She fished through her satchel once more, and though she still found nothing behind the little knife, she plucked it up anyway and slid it into her belt. A sword it was not, but it was better than nothing.