<span style="font-family:Happy Monkey">Her fingers trembled, but she closed them before taking a deep breath and grounding herself. She counted backwards in her head from ten like she normally did when she was about to meditate. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30059">Hunting would take longer</span>." She answered him without looking at him. She continued to stare at a blank spot on her bed. She really wasn't looking forward to this. She hated dealing with the Unseelie and their cryptic answers, their devious nature. Not to mention, something just didn't feel right. Her emotions were out of whack, fluctuating between severe unexplained anger and all the way down to not wanting to move depression. With a deep sigh, Jen picked up her back pack and slung it over her shoulders, slipping both arms through the straps. <br/>
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"<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30059">Rations would be our best bet. I have them well supplied in the Ritual Room</span>." She finally turned, but didn't look at King. It was almost as if she was afraid to. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she was afraid of what she might see in his eyes, in his expression. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30059">Come on. The sooner we get stocked, the sooner we can head out. I would like to be back before sunrise tomorrow</span>."</span>