“Give me it back,” the human demanded, his tone harsh and teeth gritted. He wasn’t sure what it was; his armour would protect him from whatever spell she’d throw, but for some reason, he was put off. Something was wrong here but he couldn’t tell what. The sense of dread was present, but now it came from the surrounding tents. It was magic, surely it had to be, but why wasn’t his armour blocking it? He considered the possibility that his armour only shrugged off direct magic. He did recall that when he wore the changeling pendant, it continued to radiate heat and pulse while under his chainmail. The implications of that were… uncomforting.