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Anya paused in her steps, dumbfounded. "You... What...?" Her tone changed from one of confusion to an irritated sort, "I just said that I was looking for a way home, don't you listen," she said, her fiery nature announcing itself. "Ugh, it doesn't matter," she continued with a better idea in mind, "I'll be outside."

She didn't care whether or not the Lycan had listened to her; she wan't about to waste her time with such a disagreeable man, let alone a canine. Anya retraced her steps without a sound, but an idea struck her before she came to the room with the open window within: Maybe I can find something to wear while I'm here. It couldn't hurt. Much. She held an inward grin as she stealthily opened chamber doors in search of a bureau or a dresser or a closet from which to select more appropriate attire from.

Her search brought her to a child's room. The little girl was fast asleep in her bed, unaware of the feline's prying vermilion eyes. She then found herself peering into something of a master closet; a narrow hall with doors down to the end. She crept inside and opened a door to reveal a collection of fine garments fit for a lord. That would not do. She sighed in her mind and closed the portal, opting for one on the other side of the aisle. Opening it revealed a swath of dresses and other noble attire. She sifted through the garments in an attempt to find something to her liking, but found that the selection before her covered far more than she thought to be comfortable.

The Kaelan continued to look through door after door in search of something more fitting, but to no avail. It was obvious to her that the owner of this wardrobe was either against any appearance of attractiveness or prohibited from it. Either way, none of the raiment before Anya would suit her, at least not in its present form. She then selected something of a light dress and a pair of tights she found in a drawer.

Content that these items would suffice, she closed the doors and made her way back to the room with the window she came in from. There, she discarded her rags and dressed in the simple clothing she obtained from the closets of the lady of the house. It'll work for now, she thought to herself as she started for the window. She then made her way onto the roof and surveyed the area.

Fey rolled his eyes at the Kaelan, The idea of a whole other Lycan type race was too much to pass up on, but there was still the matter at hand He let the Kaelan leave without harm then meet up with her later to help her find her home and hopefully his new allies.
He forced a smile towards the Slave. "Don't you just love the people you can meet." He took a step towards The slave smiling a bit. "The lady of the house? You mean that girl don't you?" He sniffed the air a bit. smelling an older females scent on the slave. "No there is another more mature female here isn't there?" His smile seemed less friendly with his fangs exposed"Why don't you show me to the lady of the house."
He said in a friendly way. "Prehaps she could be of assistance to me."

Fey smirked a bit "If you won't show me the to lady of the house than prehaps you should go and wake your master in my place. It would be offly rude for a stranger to catch him in his slumber at this time of night wouldn't you think so?" Fey turned away from Santaiel Allowing his fangs to retract so his smile looked more human and docile. "Of course if you refuse I will be forced to go room to room in search of him. And there is one room that i'm sure would be most unpleasant if i were to enter." He nodded towards the young daughters room. Turning back to Sanaiel he smiled a bit "I assure you I plan on no harm coming to her or the mother unless I have no other option." His smile seemed hollow

Just as Miklós was finishing up his work on the ‘Chucker’, a flash of light from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to look up into the sky, but saw nothing, and the constant drizzle was making it even more difficult to look. Turning back to his weapons, Miklós was about to proceed with cleaning his glaive, when there came a sudden rush of air from the direction of the road, followed by a loud thud. Miklós was on his feet an instant, seeming to defy his great bulk with the speed which he moved. The ‘Boom Chucker’ was in hand, his arm extended, and the barrel level and steady was aiming in the direction the sound had come. He had caught up his glaive as well, and now the shaft of the pole arm rest in on hand, ready to be whirled and brought to bear.

Standing there a few moments more, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Miklós scanned the tree line with both his eyes and his weapon. With still nothing coming forth from the shadows of the trees, Miklós slung the projectile weapon over one shoulder, and brought his glaive up to hold in both hands. Advancing slowly forward, his glaive held out prominently, Miklós continued to scan the tree line, and now that he was on the move, he included a few quick glances behind him as well. As he reached the trees, Miklós choked up on his grip on the haft of his weapon, allowing him better maneuverability should he need to start swinging it.

As he advanced into the woods, he began detecting a strong scent of smoke, but very unlike a camp fire, or any other wood burning fire. This smelled sharp, much like sulphur, but the underscent was clean, as if nothing had actually been burning. Nearing some larger trees now, Miklós began rounding each quickly, incase someone thought to hide from him in such a simple manner. It was on about the third tree, a great pine, that Miklós finally found something. As he rounded the trunk, his glaive brandished before him, Miklós spotted the barely moving form of the stranger he had encountered earlier that day. Relaxing his guard somewhat, Miklós plated the shaft on the ground, as he bent down and hefted the man to his feet. Finally getting a good look at the man’s face, and after a quick glance at the tree behind them, Miklós snorted.

“You know, trees don’t move of the way for just anybody. Or did this one sneak up on you?”

As Miklós chuckled at his own humor, the softened sound of a wet twig caught his attention, and brought his guard back up immediately. Miklós was surprised to see that he had leveled his glaive’s blade at a youthful looking woman dressed in very fine clothing. Cocking an eyebrow, he looked over at the man who was still regaining his sense, opened his mouth and then closed it again, not sure of what he was going to do. Looking back at the woman, he finally found his words.

“So just who the muck are you supposed to be? You know what never mind.”

Turning and heading back to his fire, Miklós called over his shoulders.

“Well, come on you two. No sense in standing in this blasted drizzle any more than we have to. I’m sure I can make my shelter a little bit bigger in a few minutes.”

((OOC: I understand Blaidd, I've got a 20 month old. And she's teething. Good luck with yours!))

Vasilisa gingerly stepped out of the muck, I hope I can conjure some dryer clothes she said quietly to herself, as she attempted to wipe the mud off her. Looking around for her companion, she saw him talking to a minotaur, who was chuckling at him. She stepped on a twig, and saw a glaive blade pointed at her throat. The minotaur moved it,
"So just who the muck are you supposed to be? You know what never mind."
Vasilisa was going to answer him, when she started shivering, the effects of going from warm dry air to cool wet air. When the minotaur said something about shelter, she followed him, seeing if she could help in any way. Along the way, she put serious thought in performing an attempt to summon dryer, and more sensible, clothing. I can't run around out here in court garb after all. Of course, the most sensible thing to do would be to put on the frog skin, but I want to save that for an emergency. Besides, I hate being a frog. After the minotaur made the shelter big enough for all three of them, and a fire was going, much to everyone's delight, she reached in her cloak and brought out a little golden ball. Twisting it this way and that, she managed to get a soft glow coming from it. Clasping both hands over the sphere, she whispered a few words of old Russian, and her clothes glowed and transformed into a fine pale blue linen blouse, trimmed with golden threaded frogs and golden leather breeches. Her indigo cloak dried itself, as did her boots. Those are warm, why change them? Her hair ornaments disappeared, leaving her twin plaits plain and unadorned.
Beside her appeared a golden leather quiver of arrows and a bow made of juniper and horn. Based on what I've seen, I might just need these.
She quieted the sphere and placed it back in her cloak pocket, then looked back up at her companions.

((OOC: No! I'm not trying to scare you! Steel you for what's ahead maybe... Teeth are horrible, especially the back ones. When she starts losing them, I'm smashing them with a hammer. Enjoy the littleness, Hubby and I miss it.
BTW anyone have a rough estimate on how much the fairy would pay for a tooth in about five years? Or allowance rates?))

After the phoenix had left to go hunting, Vasilisa attempted to strike up a conversation with the minotaur.
That's a very interesting weapon you wield. she said softly, nodding at the "Boom Chucker"I don't think that I've ever seen anything like it, but the lands here seem to be more technologically advanced here than Mother Russia.
She smiled sadly, looking down and playing with her fingers.
I'm being very rude aren't I. My name is Vasilisa.