Pushing back from the table, Valetni said not a word as he stood up, leaving his plate on the table. He took two steps, then paused, turning to look at the dirty plate resting on the wooden surface. He looked from the plate, to the kitchen, and then to the exit. He stood there, thinking for several moments, before turning his back on the soiled silverware and stumping towards the exit. The crack, crack, crack of the heavy live oak cane on the stone floor announcing his presence from a distance. He placed a hand on the door, coughing, and pushed it open once he had recovered. He limped along the pathway, heading towards the barracks.<br/><br/>The soft murmur of voices caught his attention, and he glanced along the path to spy the figures of Morr and the Cook. The wind took the meaning of whatever words they exchanged before they reached his ears, so he merely continued his way towards the barracks. He had not figured the Knight and Vanessa for a pairing, one of those damnably interesting happenstances that made this great game so enjoyable. It apparently took a woman who was use to look at raw meat all day to accept a face like the Knight's.<br/><br/>But none of that was any of his business, just merely an interesting tidbit to be filed away, perhaps taken out of storage at a later time if it could conceivably gain him some advantage, but more likely to linger until forgotten or dismissed.<br/><br/>Valetni stopped walking, halfway between his destination and his origin, in one of the area's where the torchlight failed to reach. He took a deep breath, though not without some discomfort. In the semi darkness, he simply stood still, listening to the Music of the Night. He remained like this, simply standing with his eyes closed, drinking in his surroundings with his other senses. Feeling strangely refreshed, and with renewed resolve, Valetni continued his march onward to the barracks.