Event #3 A Tale of Three Cities

[usirmods]

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🜙 Mini-Event #2: The North Winds, January 11th
	The Long Night has ended and the sun once more rises and sets with the short winter cycle. Although the cold remains, it has lessened considerably following the harsh freeze of the darkness. Krimnos, no longer having to put all their resources into defending the city from the terrors to come, has been able to clear the heavy snowpack on the cliffs above the city enough to safely begin running two of their three remaining airships. The Skywhale has been making its regular routes since its repairs the previous month, but the two airships from Krimnos to Didymos and the City of the Free Peoples have been grounded in the cliff city for safety since the start of winter. Now two of Krimnos' airships join their sister ship in the skies over Idan. The following routes are traveled once a day by each airship: The Skywhale travels from the City of the Free Peoples to Didymos and then back once a day, docking nightly in the City of the Free Peoples. The Horizon travels from Didymos to Krimnos and then back once a day, docking nightly in Didymos. The Valiant travels from Krimnos to the City of the Free Peoples and then back once a day, docking nightly in Krimnos. The Zenith normally travels from Krimnos to the mountain outpost of Preciposte and then on to Einjar. Unfortunately, it is still grounded due to inclement weather and winter threats in the northern mountains beyond Krimnos. The Zenith will not be able to travel until the thaw has begun. A one-way trip takes 4-6 hours depending on weather and wind to go from/to Didymos to either city and 6-9 hours to travel between Krimnos and the City of the Free Peoples. Anyone can take a trip on an airship for a purse of silver coins, or try their luck and stow away. Mounts can get a lift as well, but they require an additional fare. Not bad for a chance to see Idan from a bird's eye view for the first time for most people.
🜙 Thlipa's Tribute, January 11th
	As January progresses, pods of fin whales spend their nights in the safety of Fisher's Bay during their migration. At this time Thlipa is believed to be watching over Idan and many of Idan's people show their respect for the deity. Unlike the Day of Lefkokó, Thlipa's Tribute is a far more somber affair. Though she is the goddess of the seas, storms, and power, she is also the goddess of mourning and it is this realm she is believed to preside over most during the cold winter months. People from all across Idan who are able to travel will make a journey to Didymos to be closer to the ocean, while others observe the fin whale goddess' day in their own homes and cities. Ancestors, lost relatives, and friends are remembered with offerings of handmade gifts and small collections of nuts and sweet-dried fish. Small, enchanted candles are set out on boats down the river and shore to be carried out to the ocean. It is believed by some of the more power-hungry supporters of Thlipa that by calling on and revering the spirits of the departed Thlipa might gift her followers with the magic of the fallen. Gatherings of Thlipa's most devout followers can be seen on the shores or on small skimmer boats in the bay, and vandalism of fishing boats and nets that might endanger the fin whales runs rampant during this time.
🜙 A Tale of Three Cities - Krimnos: An Army Adrift, January 12-20th
	It appears that a large company of former Atrómitos knights has awoken in an isolated and forgotten battlefield below Krimnos' twin mountains. The army has journeyed together through the blinding blizzard to complete their original objective: a full-scale attack on Krimnos. There's something off about the tattered army decked in the green and gold of Atrómitos that shows up at Krimnos' gates. They don't seem to feel the cold, and their eyes, if anyone is unfortunate enough to get that close, are a colorless and glossy grey. They continue fighting through weather and injury, undeterred as they focus their attacks on Krimnos' main gate, setting magical fire to the gate, the wall, and their perceived enemies. The army can be seen using weapons, battering rams, and elemental magic to attack the city's gates. Though their eyes are a blank and glossy grey and they do not seem to be speaking or reacting with pain to counter-attack elements, it is clear there is a hierarchy and the commanding officers seem to still be silently directing their forces. They do not speak, and if captured it quickly becomes clear why. Though they appear whole externally, the soldiers of this army lack functional internal organs. No blood runs through their frozen veins and no oxygen is being pulled into their lungs. There also appear to be no thoughts in their minds, only the howling sound of the wind through the mountains around Krimnos. At this time of year, Krimnos can not afford to loose their main line of defense, nor can they risk the very real dangers of battle sounds and blood drawing out the hungry mountain hunters or causing an avalanche that could bury the city in snow. No one knows why this army is here, but with the familiar colors adorning the fighters, there are whispers in the air of an attempt to start a war. Already tense relations between Krimnos and the City of the Free Peoples could stand to suffer from this and the citizens of Krimnos seem horrified by the prospect. King Sitka's first concern is the safety of his people, and as such he is driving his army hard into the attacking forces and even beyond its gates if necessary, anything to push the battle farther from his people and the dangerous cliffs stacked with snow that tower over Krimnos.
🜙 A Tale of Three Cities - City of the Free Peoples: The Disappearance of Captain Lykos, January 14-22nd
	No one has seen Captain Lykos since the Long Night but rumors and knowledge of his disappearance have been kept quiet by the city's Defenders, fearful the city would spiral into a panic at the loss of its de facto leader. As word comes from traveling Krimnos merchants that the city is under siege from an army dressed in green and gold, the city turns to its Defenders for answers and finds more than they bargained for. The Defenders attempt to calm the rising panic in the city by deflecting, stating that the Captain is out on a peace mission on his way to Krimnos but this backfires as the city erupts into conspiracy theories that he is actually leading the attack and trying to start a war, with reasons such as anger over a lack of support from Krimnos during the city's time of need being used to feed the growing fear. As outrage and panic spread across the city, the Defenders declare martial law and put the city back on lockdown until answers can be found. The stability of the city quickly begins to fray. Chaos, disorder, and dissent spread and talk of overthrowing the Defenders and putting someone else in charge begins to spread. The city needs answers for themselves and for Krimnos and the Defenders begin an even more desperate search for their missing leader. Meanwhile, the citizens of the city begin preparing for a revolt, with whispers of an organized attack on the warcamp of the Defenders quickly gaining traction. The more time passes the less reasonably either side appears to be thinking, and the longer anyone lingers in the city the more infectious this frantic and paranoid energy becomes. Amidst it all, a Siamese with a familiar glowing adornment can be seen surveying the chaos from the safety of rooftops or tree branches, its eyes occasionally glowing blue while its tail flicks in what seems to be either irritation or frustration.
🜙 A Tale of Three Cities - Didymos: Tidal Troubles, January 14-25th
	Starting the morning of the 14th, trouble comes to Didymos on the tides or the lack thereof. The tide goes out during the night and, to the dismay and concern of Didymos' citizens, it never comes back. In fact, it seems as if the ocean waters are only continuing to recede, leaving Didymos' fleet and her fishing ships awash in the shallows or fully grounded. Each day the waters recede further, leaving sealife beached or trapped in tide pools and larger dips in the seafloor. A pod of fin whales finds themselves stranded in the deepest section of the bay just within the Sunset Gate. As the waters continue to recede, shipwrecks, sunken cargo, and unusual skeletons dot the rock and shell covered shores, turning the edges of the bay into an unending expanse of tide pools and dotting the horizon with pieces of warped and barnacle-covered ships usually only visible beneath the clear waters. Within days it's possible for a fully grown human to wade out to the Sunset Gate without ever getting their neck wet. The confusion and complications caused by this unexplainable dearth of water starts a panic in Didymos that the dual rulers have to fight to control. The widespread fear is joined by whispers of a war brought along from people traveling to Didymos from the other cities, and Didymos finds itself caught in a tense place with the prospect of having to outline allegiances if war breaks out. Everyone knows Queen Adira would put her forces behind Krimnos in an instant, but King Ardis seems reluctant, questioning the legitimacy of Krimnos' claims to a possible war and seeking information.

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Jon Snow ✥ OTA ✥ will match format!

[northerndragon]

[Itinerary:
- City of the Free Peoples 11-14 January (incl. Thilpa's Day on 1/11, and the trip to Epithymetikon's skeleton on 1/13 on the appropriate log)
- Krimnos 15-20 January (approx.)
- CotFP 21-?
- Possible trip to Didymos after 22 January - TBD!

Top levels coming as I write them.]

Thlipa's Day - X Marks the Spot/City of the Free Peoples

[northerndragon]

Where should he — they — go on a day like today? Didymos would be the place, but in some ways it’s like a raw wound to him, especially when it comes to a day of remembrance and mourning. His family is not far from his mind most days, but this day, a day that meant something in Thalassa and the surrounding lands, they are overwhelmingly present. It’s one of the first days since Daenerys joined him that he’s gone back to wondering: Why me? Why am I alive, and not them?

If nothing else, Ned Stark had been a better man than Jon is, surely of more use to the world then or now. Is it a matter of how and when he was killed? But then there are his brothers, his sisters. Did any of them live? He was well-traveled in those days, and he still couldn't learn much.

It would be sweet to see them again, before he forgets the lines and curves of their faces.

X Marks the Spot isn’t his home, but it serves as one for the time being, and a river runs close to it. It's as good a place as any to offer fruit, fish, both things his family would have liked, and to launch a little candle-boat later in the day.

“Bran. He loved to climb — trees and and other tall things. Arya was friends with anyone.”

He murmurs the words low. If someone approaches, he may be too distracted to notice them. Or he may offer them a small smile, the best he can muster, and a nod of acknowledgement, and a look of mild interest. Or he may answer questions that come.

When you’ve been brought back after so long, your dead are everywhere.

[dorzalta]

Dany doesn't have much: just fabric stitched together into her family's sigil... or as close a tribute as she can with so few resources. Family dead long before she ever knew them, ancestors she was raised to revere. Her other family, the family she chose, all took the Targaryen sigil in allegiance to her. It represents them as much as the silver-haired elves she never met.

A twig snaps beneath her feet as she steps closer to his crouched form. He has an enchanted candle she intends to add her little scrap of cloth to. Before invading his space, though, she stands and watches him for a beat, returning his small smile with a faint one. Then she's beside him, knees pressing into the dirt.

"Ser Barristan told me Rhaegar used to wander the city, performing for the smallfolk." She's oh so careful as she sets her scrap of fabric into his teensy little candle boat. "I used to braid Missandei's hair as she helped me with pronunciations."

[northerndragon]

He turns his head to her. At this point... anyone who's been revived might have lost everyone they’ve ever met. He’s profoundly lucky, he thinks, to not be lighting this candle in her memory.

He pulls back as she adds the little cloth she’s worked to his boat.

“Rickon, he was just a little boy. He ran about; he was fierce. And Sansa... she was...” He and Sansa hadn’t always got on, but... “She was pretty, and always trying to tell me how to treat ladies.” She had made him feel like he didn’t belong among his siblings, too, but she was still his sister. “You might have liked her,” he adds, to Daenerys. “But I think you would have liked Arya more. It’s cruel, that wars catch children in them."

[dorzalta]

Soon, she sits back on her heels and examines her work. Perhaps in a different life, her father might've been king and she a princess. Perhaps... there would even be ships with the Targaryen sigil embroidered to the sail, soaring along the waters. Black and red, a three-headed dragon.

Her hands fall to her lap as she looks over to him, listening. She catches the stumble, how to describe one sister, but what he says has her snorting in quiet amusement. "I think I already like her--assuming you listened to sound advice?"

In some ways, the two remind her of Irri and Doreah.

[northerndragon]

In a different life, Thalassa might have been called “Daenerys” instead, although its name these days, Didymos, is close enough.

“Did I tell you that your name was pretty after we met?” He had, but not at first. At first, he’d had more concern that she might cut his throat. “That was the sort of thing she’d have me say. Or she’d talk about how pretty the meadow was, or the sea, or the sun on Logistykon's scales.”

With a sigh, he adds, “The truth is that Sansa and I often didn’t get on. She took after her mother.”

He’s heard tales of Catelyn's death. She may have made his home cold for him when he was a boy, but no one deserves to die like that. And in spite of the icy face she'd presented to him, she’d been a kind mother to the rest of them — he can’t begrudge his trueborn siblings their kind mother. And it’s easier to forgive the dead when they can’t hurt you anymore. “I hope their mother is going softly wherever she is, too. I had no love for the lady, but....” He presses his lips together and shrugs, looking glum. “My father seemed to love her well.”

It all comes back to Ned Stark.

An Army Adrift - Krimnos (15-20 Jan)

[northerndragon]

He is not a member of King Sitka's army, and Krimnos, of the three cities, is the one that was the least familiar to him in his former life, because of its location and situation. He'd visited it, seen the cliffs, seen Thymoeides fly, wondered about its fierce little queen (in some ways, she put him in mind of his lady), but it had never felt like his place. He had been told that he had been born there; still, it wasn't his home.

What he is now is alive when he should not be. These people are like the ones down south: they need aid, and that's all he really has to know.

[pre-fight]

"There are a bloody lot of them," he says, frowning out at the distance. "That armor -- it's old Atromitos armor, isn't it? Not what they wear down in the City now." Now that the city is defended by more orcs than elves, the armor is bigger, and different.

An arrow flies from the bow of a defender nearby, shooting right into the eye of one of the attacking soldiers, but the soldier doesn't stop. He doesn't even seem to be hurt.

"Did you -- ?" See that, he means? Are Jon's eyes tricking him?

[the thick of it]

Jon is a competent archer, and a more than competent swordsman, but this fight is hard. The attackers are well-armed to begin with, and injuries that should take them down don't. They don't care about the cold. They can be stopped if a limb is severed and they can't fight anymore, so he begins to focus on trying to hack off their hands or arms. It's grinding, tedious work, work that has to be done as quietly and efficiently as possible, and eventually, he has to fall back and rest.

He hears the whispers -- he supposes most everyone fighting must -- that somehow, this might be an act of war, that Krimnos may fight The City in earnest one day soon.

"No, it's not right," he says, to whoever happens to be around. Then, "We need to take out the commanders."

Pre-Fight

[rocketraccoon]

"Yeah, I saw it. I don't like it." Rocket aims down his crossbow sight, following the movement of the soldier who should have dropped dead. He squeezes the trigger and a second arrow follows the first. It hits the helm and bounces off, and Rocket curses under his breath before loading a second bolt. This time his aim is sharper, and it joins the Krimnos guard's arrow, the shaft sticking out from the soldier's face, two arrows jutting out, one from either eye.

The soldier doesn't even seem to stumble.

Rocket shakes his head, slipping his crossbow by the strap back around to his back and pulling his ax free instead. He takes his eyes off the attackers and glances up, past Jon, at the snowy cliffs above them. Every thud of a battering ram on the gates causes large drifts of snow to shift on the cliffs, small pieces dropping down to fall heavily downward. He isn't normally fond of putting himself on the front lines if there isn't a hefty profit to be earned, but if snow buries Krimnos he won't be able to get out of the city, assuming he even survives, and he doesn't want to see a second war spark up. It's been a century for these people but far less time for Rocket. The war is still fresh in his mind and this city has too many fascinating new inventions to explore to see it destroyed before he can take those ideas for himself.

"We need to get down there."

[northerndragon]

He should be more alarmed by these developments, he knows, but they're baffling enough to stifle some of the fear that anyone would feel in this kind of seige. As Rocket takes his shots at the indefatigable and apparently immortal soldier, Jon watches closely, frowning.

It isn't only that the soldier doesn't stumble or stop, it's that he should be in tremendous pain from the injuries, and he acts as though they didn't happen.

But Rocket is right. If these apparently invincible soldiers continue to slam on the gates like that, it may not matter whether or not they get into the city, because the city itself may be buried under a mountain of snow. There will be great suffering in the event that it happens.

"All right." Then, "If you kill the leaders, some armies will fall apart." His father had told him this, when he was a boy, and in his experience, it seems to be true enough. " -- Though I don't know if they'll die."

[rocketraccoon]

Rocket scans the fighting below them, his eyes narrowed and his grip firm on his ax. His bolts and the arrows of the knights defending the wall didn't seem to be doing much of anything to slow the attackers, but-

"They can't attack if they don't have limbs." It's a grim suggestion, but right now it seems like one of a very small number of solutions. He doesn't have what he needs to make explosive bolts here, and he only has one left. Not to mention the sound and the shock of using one of them could do exactly what they want to prevent and bury the city in snow.

"You got any ideas on how to get down there?"

[northerndragon]

Jon shrugs, with equanimity. Rocket is right: they can't attack if they don't have limbs, and that's good as far as it goes, as long as the attackers are the only ones to lose them.

And his sword is as sharp as Rocket's ax, or sharper.

Still, he shakes his head. "The hard way. The foolish way. I can't fly. I can see if someone can help us get down there, but the enemy will probably only set us alight." They've seen that happen already, too. "Daenerys can lift people into the air, but I don't know the limits of her abilities. Especially not -- well. Not now."

Can she do it as well as she did before her death?

There is still the hard way: a careful descent, then joining with Sitka's troops in an outward push.

Disappearance of Captain Lykos - City of the Free Peoples (Jan 21-22)

[northerndragon]

What have they returned to?

It's not exactly a riot, but he remembers this feeling from the days of the wars, when they began to get worse and worse. The coming conflict that made the air bristle like the fur on the spine of a wary wolf -- the fur on his own spine, in all honesty. And Atromitos took the worst of it then by far, he thinks: very little of it is recognizable anymore.

He runs about the city as a wolf, seeing what he can see. Then, a man again, hidden away for the change.

When he sees someone he recognizes -- someone who has stayed in Gilly's inn or at the Immortal Duke, someone he knows or suspects to be like himself, he stops them and says, "Do you really think they're going to attack the Defenders?"

It seems like a bad bet for either side.

Or, failing that, he may say, "Have you heard any word of Lykos? I didn't see him in Krimnos."

[thatsrough]

"Frightened animals are unpredictable." Teddy responds, his appearance shabby at best. He smells a bit like a wet dog in his drab clothing, and he's holding a bottle that could pass for alcohol to anyone without a keener nose. Looking like a homeless drunk was just another way Teddy had found helped him to melt into the background. People tended to actively avoid engaging with him, and those who did underestimated him, unaware the liquid within was only water and the bloodshot eyes were from lack of sleep, and not the eyes of a drunkard.

He had tried to get the Captain's scent in his canine form and failed to find anything but old, useless traces that circled back on themselves over and over again. Without some idea of where to start he was lost.

"Right now, most of the city seems to be made up of exactly that."

[northerndragon]

Jon looks curiously at Teddy, but the other man isn't wrong: the people in this city are frightened animals, like any other nervous beast, just bigger and smarter and with less useful noses than a wolf. And he'd run past the man in wolf form not an hour ago: he knows it's only water in the bottle.

"I don't think they'll come out the best for it. Before the Long Night, they would have died without the Defenders. What makes them think that turning on them now won't just get a lot of them killed -- all of them? It would leave the city ever more vulnerable." He shakes his head and adds, "Wherever Lykos is, it isn't in Krimnos. I've just returned -- I saw no sign of him there."

[unprays]

If she didn't know the city whose streets she was walking on had once borne the glory of Atromitos, she wouldn't even begin to guess at it, of that Sansa is certain. There is little to remind her of the city she had thought to be the most beautiful, until it lost all its appeal to her and turned into nothing but chains.

Now, walking there, Lady at her heels, she feels conflicted — what is one to do when ones life has already been lost? When all you once new seems to be gone?

To survive a little longer, she thinks. She had been good at it, before. She can do it again, in this new time, new era. And she starts it by trying to find out as much as she can of Atromitos — no, City of the Free Peoples.

It is one such evening that she is going around the city, exploring as much as she can, a cloak over her red hair, that she thinks she sees a wolf, one who so much reminds her of her brother. She calls, "Wait," but the wolf is already gone, and Sansa feels stupid for thinking so — it might have been a dog, and the ache with which she misses her family made her think it was Jon. Or perhaps she was simply so used to looking for him, for it had been what she had been doing when she stumbled into the battlefield.

How stupid, to keep looking for him still. And yet, the next night, she returns to the same spot, just in case. She never was good at hope, but neither was she good at giving up.

[northerndragon]

When he runs about in the skin of a wolf that first night, his first impression is the smell of fear. So many of the people in the city stink of it. He thinks, after his return from Krimnos, that the people of this city have less cause for it.

Is Lykos really all that holds them together? It's madness. And after what happened way up north in the mountains, he wonders if madness is what someone is hoping to achieve.

Once, when he rounds a corner, something stands out over the smell of fear: a smell that reminds him of home, of his youth, so long ago, one note from the song of his brothers and sisters, accompanied by a word from a familiar voice. He hesitates, looks around, catches a glimpse of a lock of reddish hair about to fall from the hood of a cloak -- but the area is crowded, and there's no good place for him to return to his more usual state. By the time he returns, whoever it is has gone.

Something makes him go back the next evening. It's a well-trafficked spot. There had been a fountain in it once, now dry and full of flowers that have died back for the winter.

And there she is, too: the half-sister who'd made a point of stressing half, the one who had never spent even a moment as a wolf. She's older now, a woman grown, tall as she'd always been. It's as if his memory of her on Thlipa's Day has called her back to life.

His expression is grave, troubled, hopeful. He stands a few feet apart from her, waiting to catch her eye. When he does, he says, "Sansa? I had a feeling I'd find you here."

[unprays]

She's about to tell herself it's all been her imagination when she sees him. He stands there, just as she remembers him, as serious as he'd ever been. For a moment, she thinks back to the last time she'd seen him, before leaving home, before everything. Had she ever wished him good luck? Had she ever bid him good-bye, except for some short words all three of them said to the others upon them leaving?

It's a wonder he looks hopeful at all, she thinks with guilt. He must wish it was Arya here and not her. And still, she steps closer, and says, with a wavering voice,

"Jon —"

Anything she wants to say is gone, and all she can do is stumble to him, to hug him, to make sure he's really here.

"I can't believe I finally found you."

He doesn't know, she's sure of it, how hard she tried to find him before, how she would have found him before the start of the war, had it not been for Littlefinger. But despite him, despite her death (and his, she thinks, for he couldn't be here otherwise, it must be the same that happened to her), she's found him at last. One member of her family.

Wildcard

[northerndragon]

[Jon is around within reason on the dates listed above! If there's something you'd like to have him come across your character doing, whether it's trying to shake down one of the Defenders for information or going through the pockets of an undead Atromitos soldier looking for antique coins to sell, or etc., go for it.]

Tidal Troubles - Didymos

[northerndragon]

What Jon has found is that he doesn't want to be in Didymos -- hasn't since the beginning. The name is wrong, the place is wrong. There is a skeleton out in the water that shouldn't be there. All of it is like a thin blade to the heart.

But whether or not to go there isn't entirely his decision, and he knew that he would sooner or later.

He did not expect it to be during troubles with the tides, or that all those old shipwrecks would be revealed by extraordinarily low waters.

Now, he is up to his waist, wet sand under his toes, the smell of salt air all around. Who knows who these crates once belonged to?

[dorzalta]

He's always been a brooder. She knows that, rolled her eyes at it when they first met, and then accepted it when they grew closer. After all, she has her own moments of it.

The problem is that she's part of the cause, having cajoled him into coming with her to Didymos despite his hesitancy. So whilst he brooded, she'd explored shipwrecks with Rocket, rushing back to find her wolf the moment they'd returned. One night's sleep later, and then she'd dragged him out out of bed the moment the sun peeped over the horizon.

At least this would keep them busy, and him away from ghosts?

She hopes, anyway. "Did you ever think all this was here?"

[northerndragon]

He nods, looking troubled.

“Shipwrecks were always a danger out here. Anywhere there are sailors. But as many as this... I don’t suppose I thought about that."

There are ghosts everywhere, but at least these ghosts are less personal.

A crate floats a few yards away, and with a frown, he wades over to it. It looks old. Not rotted yet, but weathered, salty. The bay is shallow enough to lead to more shipwrecks now, but — if it stays like this, it won’t be good for the city.

[dorzalta]

It's a wonder his face doesn't freeze into a frown. Her gaze lingers on him, a few feet away and busying himself with a crate. Despite how troubling the water's recession is, this is a curiously exciting change following their trip on the airship.

"How many decades do you think are buried here?"

Being shorter than him, she soon decides to crouch down and tread water, propelling herself further out with a burst of magic. Better than fighting the sand and the water with each step.

"I think you should have been a pirate," she announces, louder than her last question so he can hear her.

[fuga]

The sealine is familiar to Lauralae now; she had been here to worship, to offer remembrance to Myr, but she had not buried her fingers in the salt water. She frowns now as she looks over it, moving closer, curious - the castaways of human society have always been of use to her.

They're easier to steal.

Spotting Jon, she hesitates for a moment before she slips closer, angling for one of the crates, not comfortable actually speaking. Her eyes flick between him and the spoils and she breathes out, hesitating for a moment, before she reaches for one, gloved hands pressing into wood.

[northerndragon]

The way the girl moves is strange and furtive. There isn't anywhere to hide on an open shore, and he's no one to hide from, anyway, but he supposes she wouldn't have any way of knowing that. As she slips closer, he can tell that she's aware of his presence, maybe wary of it.

"They're old. Some of them are nothing but jars of food."

He pitches his voice to sound friendly, because he is, but part of him wonders what she's up to. You couldn't be out here hoping to find anything specific. Still, he understands the temptation to try her luck.

[fuga]

She does nothing to really hide herself - it's not possible when she is dressed in red and black and walking along a shoreline with crates everywhere - but she seems as if she wishes to pass without note all the same. Glancing at Jon doesn't seem to do anything to soften her; it makes her seem all the more paranoid.

"Food is worth taking. There are always people starving."

It's enough for her to begin to lift the lid on one of the crates, to lean down and start to see if she can open it to look inside.