Vesta’s voice drifts down the stairs ahead of her, lilting in the Ramtovi tongue, light with laughter as she speaks to her companion. When she steps into the room, she’s smiling brightly, her hand laced with Zukar’s. She leans in to murmur something else to him under her breath, a playful grin tugging at her lips before her attention shifts.

“Storm!”

The moment Vesta spots the draconian, she’s moving in her direction and tugging Zukar along with her.

“I should’ve known you’d be here,” she says, amused. “We were on our way to the Mage’s Guild, but I’d love to sit and chat first.”

She slips into a nearby seat, pressing close to Zukar without a second thought, her shoulder brushing his as she settles in.

“Are you feeling any better? I know the room with the door was bothering you pretty badly."

Before Storm can answer, the tavern door opens.

Nill rushes inside in a blur, trying not to be noticed, but just a bit too frantic to pull it off. Her eyes dart across the room until they land on Storm, and immediately she makes a beeline for her.

In one quick motion, she scrambles up the barstool and clings onto Storm’s back. Then, she goes perfectly still.

Her expression is carefully blank, but her breathing is erratic, her shoulders tense, and her heart races like a trapped bird.

She says nothing.

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