Ophelia nodded attentively at Naomi’s instructions and suggestions, though couldn’t help but allow the tiniest of bemused smiles to twitch at her normally thinned lips when the older woman mentioned knitting projects. “There’s this romance book I’ve been reading, I’ll bring that.” Cheeks flushed a little at the admission of reading something so sappy. The other things were eagerly remembered as well. Toiletries, assuming they’d be capable of washing at all, spare clothes.

“Right, civilians shouldn’t peg us as troublemakers.” That made sense, and it was a fact Ophelia made sure to remember like scripture. Stealth and a measured approach since common folk typically had no knowledge of the Ether and its influence beyond weird occurrences they’d often attribute to folklore or just an anomaly in their typical lives. As for weapons she could bring the Vigil’s signature weapons. Sword, hunting knife. Some salt, and of course any rituals they might need.

Or actually hoped they wouldn’t need.

The younger woman sighed, fingers flexing as if the letter had left its mark. Naomi seemed so serena, practiced despite the idea that they’d have to brave Ether-tainted grounds. The thought alone sent shivers down Ophelia’s spine before steeling herself into it.

Or pretending to, at least.

“I must gather my things. Quill and ink, too.” She paused once she stood, her hand clasping at an imaginary pendant. “For documenting. They expect an accounting of our findings. Detailed, even.” Ophelia’s head bowed evenly, only a small dip to show her honest respect to Naomi while thoughts and plans raced through her ever rattling mind.

“I will see to provisions as well.” A soft smile as she turned to leave. “Do you enjoy candied ginger, Mama Moose?” The question was innocent enough to make anyone think Ophelia was many years younger than she actually was. Practiced in theory, but green on the field. She’d essentially been given her examination properly now.