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	[u]Weather[/u]: The weather has ticked away from the merely inclement to the genuinely uncomfortable. Heavier wind is not constant, but the gusts seem to infiltrate cloak, coat, and frilly party-going attire alike while lesser, more constant movement of cold atmosphere serves to move the snowflakes with compelled purpose. 
       
	[u]Time[/u]: I don't know if it is the right time, but it is most certainly the nighttime.  

	[u]Ambience[/u]: Much of what can be heard over the erratic sounds of wind come in the form of voices amongst the party, which have to be repeated with greater volume every so often in order to be understood fully. The night has become quite dark; no starlight nor moon through the overcast sky of a strengthening snowstorm and firmly in the places outside of the lanterns' reach. Snow is building up around the feet of those still outside like a crunchy, white crust which covered the visible landscape.   

[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] 
[img][/img]	
	Cecily looked to her niece incredulously as apparently, another shock hit her. It was one thing to hear that Lizbeth was capable of understanding a language that she had no normal cause to, and it was another to hear her translate. She was perfectly aware of the extent to her ward's education, and the speech of demons was not among the subjects broached. Now standing, her eyes went to the two nearest her (that being Baronfjord and Victoria). Her voice lost a hint of vigor and her face retained the element of shock from earlier as she spoke. [color=darkgray][i]"Please, might you.."[/i][/color] It was an unimpressive start. She cleared her throat and raised her volume to be heard over the wind - a sound that was more like a cough than anything else, which paired appropriately with the wrack of shivers that took hold of her limbs, [color=darkgray][i]"I have guests in my home without a hostess. Would someone escort me back? And..."[/i][/color] she hastily added, [color=darkgray][i]"...if she is willing, would you all please keep my Lizbeth safe? I don't know what I could possibly do if things get worse."[/i][/color]

	 When the creature that used to be Toombes finally let its undeath rattle sound and grew quiet, Lizbeth finally let her swordpoint angle toward the snowy ground. For the first time in at least a few minutes, her breath condensed into the air as it left her lips and she began to look truly uncomfortable. The weapon stayed in her hand, but her non-dominant one clutched her split styled cloak more tightly about herself. [color=darkgray]"I'm okay with that, Aunt Ceecee."[/color] She seemed tired, for the first time this evening. [color=darkgray]"They've been nice to me. Fair, even. And I like the Coach House fine."[/color] True, it didn't have the more personalized luxuries of her more familiar Estate House, but who knows what might motivate a young lady in circumstances such as these? 

	 Cecily awkwardly turned around as she spoke, rather absently addressing issues that may have borne priority. [color=darkgray][i]"I would rather you not set Master Toombes on fire unless it's necessary. He has a family - parents at least - in the villages."[/i][/color] Not that it would be any better to see what state he was in now, but it was possible that Cecily wasn't thinking so far ahead. [color=darkgray][i]"But please do not leave him out here for the wolves. Toombes deserves better."[/i][/color] The shivering was getting quite uncontrollable now, and Cecily set back on her way to the Estate House, escort or not. 

        Lizbeth finally sheathed her sword and looked around at the assembled party. She had wrapped one half of her split cloak around the lower part of her face to spare her lips and nose the worst of the increasingly bad weather and almost had to shout, [color=darkgray]"So is it okay? If I stick with you, I mean? And could we head that way, please? It's cold and scary out here."[/color]