[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color]

It was always something, wasn't it?

Much like Renar a pace and a half ahead, Gerard felt his blood pressure spike and kept his face in a heroically placid cast, stuffing the urge to hold his brow. It was always [i]something[/i] with these expeditions, wasn't it? Never minding Gertrude's tempting of fate— well, with this particular fae, her desire to forge a contract seemed less like tempting and more like outright hiking her skirt up, but either way— she was a grown woman, and could make her decisions for herself. It wasn't like she had any less an upbringing steeped in cautionary folklore as he, and atop it she was a talented mage.

Whatever she got herself into, she knew about as much as any of them.

But nonetheless, from the sounds of things one of their three choices in trophy had been pilfered beneath the Moonlit Queen's nose, turning their cleanly won bet into a bogged down mire that sounded like it was bound to end with them trying to hunt down a thief. Given that The Queen's attention was likely centered around watching the battle play out, now seemed, in hindsight, quite the opportune time for any interested third parties to invade her realm and swipe something out from beneath her nose.

His eyes narrowed, just barely. Of all this, he found he just really didn't want to be made into a liar, after that confident yarn he'd spun in front of the lady of the forest.

[color=goldenrod]"A thief beneath all our noses. They must have used the clamor of the fighting. Likely wasn't the nithyr, seeing as they were too stuck in on the battle. Who else might be interested in taking whatever this third thing was?"[/color]

Well, he knew of one or two, but he doubted those so close to The Moonlit Queen herself would be so hard for her to notice.

And he'd be disappointed to learn they didn't at least give him a chance to back the big talk up.