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"What's wrong, man?...I know you're eager to get back to base before the authorities catch up to us…. As much as I hate having to help the Sect, we need to keep our ruse up 'til we shake her off. One of us will report to the authorities. I sure as hell can't since I'm so freaky-looking … We're only getting started with our manifesto”
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Blood thundered in Deimos’s ears as her own lorelei thauma pulled in the conversation among the cart, processing this as she was lulled to a silence by the eruption of surefooted hooves under her. They were aware of her, which she was rather surprised of but still expected. She pressed her pink lips together as she rode harder, multiple places on her body showing a paler white as she rode harder. Her whole body was being to be fatigued of the riding, it felt like small needles were stabbing her leg muscles keeping her on with each stride of the horse.

 [i] They’re trying to shake me off, run from the authorities yet go to them. They do not feel comfortable going to the ‘cellar’, whatever that is in my presence. They’re running from something, a bigger threat than I. [/i] Her thoughts hissed, trying to automatically pin them guilty for something she was unaware of. She was no detective as doubt still clouded her mind, there was nothing they said that gave her 100% proof they had done something wrong.

 “ What if they did something bad? [b] Why [/b] should this matter to me? I am already rejected as a species as far as I know, I could be killed for ratting on them….What even encourages me to act like a ‘good’ civilian when I’m sure as hell I’m neutral, on middle grounds? Every women for herself.” Clutching a chunk of her horses mane, a frustrated sigh hissed between her teeth as she spoke to herself. Leaving all of those questions unanswered as all she had time for, making her sole intention to not let the dark elf out of her sight- she didn’t even know what she was going to say. As of now, the trees were blocking the sight of the cart and they already knew they were being followed. She yanked her horse’s reins to the side. The animal responded, bolting and jumping through a group of bushes. She grunted out of pain with the hard landing and the lack of the saddle but nonetheless, gained speed towards the cart, eventually surfacing at the distance of around 20 feet. Her cape whipped behind her, revealing a red and black flute clipped to her waist. The fingers of one hand brushed against this instrument, unknown to others that this was her choice of weapon. She rode silently, seeing if the cart would respond in aggression to her presence and knowing they were a danger just as much as her knowledge could be to them. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here to help.” She droned darkly to Melvin alone with a sadistic smile, as if she was a villain herself. Nothing she said would give clear signals whether her intentions would be negative or in their favor, the words conflicting with her eerie tone.