Shroud smiled, a rare expression for the evening, and nodded along with what Owan said. The dog watched through as they passed by, eyeing the girl with dark, hopeful eyes. When they'd pass, it retreated back into the shadows, awaiting others to follow it into the gloom of its own realm.
Shroud clicked a finger against the hilt of his dagger, pausing between two roads. "Bard speaks true," He warned the girl, "Best not trust anyone in Sunberth. Everyone wants something from someone and you'll be taken as a fool, new as you are." After a moment of deliberation, he chose the right road and started off at a brisk pace again, pausing only to speak between alleys. Thoughtful again. "I'll give you a place to stay and a way out of the city. Your kind is best across the seas, in Lhavit, but we'll make do with Syliras or Zeltiva."
He offered her a mirthless smile. "Journey will not be easy for you, but staying here will get you killed...or worse." His tapping continued on the hilt of his dagger, a quick jaunty stacatto as though communicating in some complicated code. It was a nervous habit, or appeared to be, especially as Shroud stopped whenever he caught himself doing it.
"I'm not helping you for nothing," he answered her languidly with a shrug, "Leth saw fit to raise you and drop you, I'm betting there's something special about you. You'll pay me back whether you wanted to or not. The question isn't if, simply when."
Another turn, deeper into Sunberth as the houses rose like dilapidated sentinels. For Owan, someone who had been in Sunberth awhile, Shroud was no longer walking in the direction of any boarding house he knew. His path was on a tangent with the marketplace, a ghostly place after dusk and thick with the knives of thieves. Beyond that, the Gated Community, or in another direction, The Slave market. He hadn't yet settled on a direction and seemed aimlessly moving from street to street, although possessed with oddly specific purpose.
He spoke nothing of it to either of them, only thoughtfully gaze his head, counting on his fingers numbers that he hadn't a mind to hold. |