[img=http://i.imgur.com/UPINOf1.png]

[b]Outside Thaum[/b]

Well, it’s not that bad. Okay, the situation they were in (Lute obviously counted himself in trouble too) was unpleasant but at least Atlas wasn’t pounded into a nice limp beef steak. Truth be told the virtuoso had trouble imagining the Pride choosing to do violent things to his friend so he wasn’t all that panicked, save for the cautious bodyguard stance he adopted when Moira moved her greatsword.

Lute stayed close to Atlas like a paperclip stuck on a magnet and kept his (and Delilah’s) ears open for any hiss of a sound that might prove threatening. He didn’t want to admit to himself (or at least to the rational part of his brain) that he was indeed listening in case they get ambushed by more cheddar/mozzarella rogues, but here he was. There was the possibility that the assailants were illusionists, and if they worked for a gang, general circumstances are that the physically more adept types did the hurting. Unless he missed some one-class fad that was going on, Lute was sure that his theory was insubstantial, yet rational enough. The girl who jumped on the chair earlier, the exact one who asked him about the blobfish, was beside his friend and seemed to act like some sort of hound on the scent, which actually (sorta) impressed Lute. He wanted to compliment her, but really didn’t know what to say (“Nice nose. I mean, not your nose nose, but it’s nice too. I meant, your sense of smell-”) so when Lute finally managed to catch Trixie’s eye, he raised a thumb up for the universal “good job!” sign before trying to (inconspicuously) hide himself behind Atlas. 

The young man scratched the back of his head and then started to address his friend, about to ask about what they should tell their respective families about their late return, but was cut off by the sudden rumble of thunder and lightning.

Plus rain. 

“Don’t get your head weeeet!” Lute half-screeched, half-screamed as he raised his hands over Atlas’s head to shield the man’s newly-healed wounds from the downpour. He realized only after a few seconds that there wasn’t any water falling down on them thanks to Amy’s magic barrier thing.

He looked like he was blessing Atlas.

Lute tucked his hands in his pockets and sighed deeply, then kept up the pace when their group hurried on under Atlas’s direction. He remained in front along with the dark-haired man, and didn’t seem likely to leave that position soon.