[center][h2][b][color=silver]Lhirinthyl[/color][/b][/h2][/center][hr]
Lhirin’s eyelid twitched slightly, then the other–asynchronous, which he noted internally–then both eyes narrowed fractionally and the neutral, if slightly grim, line of his lips turned down slightly as his feathered brows drew together in a frown. [color=silver][b]“Not my intention,”[/b][/color] he said frankly, realizing he had miscalculated on a number of fronts. Perhaps the piaan had adled his mind more than he’d thought. How troublesome. The deigan hybrid felt Irah’s touch in the next moment, the squeeze. He turned to regard her, saw the directionality of her nod, and though it took a few instants, understood her intent. Mostly her gesture led his eyes past the open threshold and into the interior where he took in brief details, cross referencing them with Freagon’s words almost concurrently.

Still, he didn’t quite let his focus shift to that just yet, though he did give Irah a small nod to show that he’d understood even as he put his hand over hers briefly and squeezed. Someone more well adjusted might have smiled to show fondness, but Lhirin was already moving on, turning his attention to Bren.

[color=silver][b]“Mmm, messy. My apologies. Usually I have more…precise control. Irah?”[/b][/color] The deigan mage glanced briefly at his companion, before tilting his head–not in a nod, but as to indicate the healer and–surely–his wound.

[color=silver][b]“If you could…mm, compensate for my error Vreharhn..”[/b][/color] he said as his silver eyes held hers for a moment, warm, intense, but sharp as ever. He squeezed her hand once more, then let go, not needing a reply. Irah always did what needed to be done, provided it was within her ability.

Considering the problem of the Healer’s wound to be essentially taken care of, Lhirin moved to the next thing, literally. Crossing the distance while avoiding the bodies, Lhirin entered the farmhouse through the door that the wounded bandit had burst from. Though as he entered, he cast his eyes up first, then to the corners to either side of the threshold, before looking anywhere else.

Once within the space, his eyes shifted back and forth, first in a swift examination as he lightly extended his magical senses throughout, expending as little energy as possible to sense for anything that might show up or respond to such sensory probing. After a short while he began to scan slower, more deliberately, taking in every detail he could while he withdrew the majority of his magical senses beyond a narrow band that roughly aligned with his vision…and hovered off the surface of his clothes by an inch or so.

Lhirin noted the chest and did sweep it both swiftly and more deliberately with his vision and arcane sense, but he filed it away as a point of particular interest while he focused elsewhere on less obvious things. 

There was some particular focus on corners, seams where walls met floor, tables and beneath them, as well as what he could see or feel (magically) on the four bandits within the room. Throughout he remained poised in the case of a concealed threat, his blade still in hand, his attention still enough on his hearing and the smells in the room to detect things that might be off…as well as shifts in the air against his skin or through his plumage.

Lhirin would mentally catalogue the belongings of the bandits, any objects within the room that might stand out–tools, vials, weapons, things that wouldn’t generally be found in a farmhouse–while putting commonplace things in a separate mental list. If he found nothing of note beyond the chest, he’d go to that next and inspect any lock it might have to see if he could figure the best way to access its contents. If there was no lock, well…he’d open it and see what he found. If he were to open the chest, he’d do so while standing beside it, if possible, rather than in front of it, in case it was trapped or something similar. He’d also, notably, open it very slowly, carefully, to see if he began to feel the tug of mechanisms, which if he felt, he would immediately ease the chest closed again and reconsider. This time, he was taking the time he needed to try and overcompensate for the way the piaan had just briefly before affected his processing.