Vesta’s confidence falters, just slightly.

“Well… I don’t have any coin. But-”  She shifts her bag off her shoulder and nudges it towards E’ni’cala, opening it with a small, almost sheepish motion. Inside rests a wheel of cheese, carefully wrapped. “I have this. I’ve been saving it for an emergency. I’m hoping it’s enough.”
She exhales softly.

“If not, I can volunteer my services as well. For as long as it takes. Scrying, healing, whatever is needed.”

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