Dasha has drilled formations and is finding having to account for all directions and all these people very stressful, but she isn't well-positioned to start telling everyone which side to watch. She will take the left and keep an eye out mostly that way, if only because anything lunging from the right will have to go through the rest of the group.

Naima has five rolls of canvas (glorious, glorious day), three slabs of wood about the right size for her loom plans even though only one of them can actually become a loom, six pieces of frog leather dyed horrifying garish colors, about half a pound of tiny porcelain tiling, small cans of pink and orange paint, a jar of lanolin (whatever that is), some raw wool that only has a little dried paint splashed over it, a bunch of tiny fringes that are useless in their current form but which can at least be used for fiber, and as many soft dry reeds as she can fit in the rest of her pack. Plus she's almost full up on mana, which is actually useful instead of being a waste, because now she'll be able to put the excess into artificing projects.

It would be excessively charitable to suggest that she's carrying all of this safely. She is, however, paying close attention to anything her earrings alert her to which seems even slightly off. 

"Bella, did you want to do History of Artificing homework after we've dropped all this off?"

"Sure, sounds good. As long as it doesn't involve any saws."

("You were wonderful," she tells the cable saw, even though she doesn't actually think the cable saw has a personality right now, because in fact she thinks it was wonderful.)