Ever since he left the bustling streets of Luca behind, the hairs on the back of Zveran’s neck had been standing. He reshoulders his pack, adjusting to make it more comfortable, as well giving him the chance to peek behind him.
He couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean no one was there, and if he let them get the better of him, if they caught him by surprise, well. The thieves who trained him would be very disappointed.
Zveran smiles, but lets the moment go. He looks out across the Moonflow as well, his smile staying on with ease.
The Moonflow crossing is long, and soon enough Zveran's head lolls off to one side as he naps.
Masque stays awake and alert, too many people around, no matter the peacefulness.
The shoopuf begins to mount the bank an hour later, and Zveran stirs.
"Ugh...remind me never to nap on a bench again," he moans, trying to uncrick his neck.
Now is not the time for a foul joke, Zveran, control yourself!
"You do get into a lot of fights. Cramped muscles must be the norm."
"Whatever the reason, I'm very glad you have that certain skill. You keep endearing yourself to me, it's almost like you staying is a possibility."
Zveran smiles.
The rest of the passengers disembark, and Zveran stands to follow them.
Zveran leads the way, away from the shoopuf station and heading towards Guadosalam.
A few days later, after nothing more eventful than a few fiend attacks, Zveran stands before the underground path leading into Guadosalam.
"Ugh," he says, screwing up his face. "I don't like being underneath all that earth."
Masque doesn't look any more comfortable than Zveran sounds. "-Sooner we start, sooner we get it over with?"
"Right. It's just the one night, restocking, what could possibly go wrong?" He takes a first cautious step. "Guados, why can't they live in trees?"
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