“And of course offer them the proper respect. It wouldn’t do to have them pass from the world so cleanly.”

Yup. That mask definitely doesn't hide the impressions of the smirk Masque is giving. "Perhaps."

Zveran smirks in return. "I haven't met anyone of your ilk in a long time."

That gets a slightly confused head tilt.

“Someone worthy of the knife.”

-They look down, and it's a little...embarrassed? In the way of someone not used to compliments.

"It's nothing to be modest about, my dear Masque. The knife is not easy for most."

They snort a little. "Learn or die is a rather excellent motivator."

“True enough, but it doesn’t usually train tactics.”

"I suppose not."

"You have a keen mind. I'd like to see how we can grow your skills, now you are free."

There's the eyebrow impression again, because they didn't agree to anything more than getting to the temple.

"Right, yes, of course. I am getting ahead of myself. I do that."

Masque hums (they don't feel bad exactly, but-) "Seems something people do."

"It has been some time since there was anything besides the pilgrimage in my life."

Another hum. "Everyone seems to think a summoner's pilgrimage is...everything."

"It is how Sin is defeated, albeit temporarily. Most common folk only have the Calm to look forward to."

A shrug, and no immediate response. (Like Masque had ever had anything to look forward to.)

"You've never been somewhere that Sin had attacked?"

"Once." Their voice is tight, and they don't continue.

He doesn't pry. He doesn't need to.

He lets the silence lie for now, as they keep heading down the Highroad.

Masque seems happy enough to travel in silence.

Zveran makes no conversation, until they stop for the night.

"These ruins will do nicely for a camp."

Masque nods, but doesn't seem inclined to say anything, instead finding a perch among the ruins - still well-sheltered, but with good sight lines.

Zveran unfurls his blanket and hands it to them. "Hungry?"