Calaerwyn flinched as the knife was pulled abruptly for the merchant’s abdomen. It was a cruel-looking thing, now covered in blood and bits of flesh. Cal’s stomach turned despite herself, and she closed her eyes a moment as the nausea passed. Then, the healer began working her magic, and the wound was sealed. Cal let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.<br/><br/>Zephyr rumbled deep in his  chest with anxiety. He was not frightened of the green cloaked men. After all, what man could hope to harm a dragon such as he? But his Alftar girl had no scales or claws, and he worried about her. Cal heard him rumble and looked up at him.<br/><br/>“Take to the wing, friend, but stay close,” she urged. It looked as if they would not be leaving soon.<br/><br/>Grimly she set her jaw, and stood as the injured merchant began guzzling various potions. She was not knowledgeable when it came to alchemy, but she assumed he drank them to replenish his strength. A little reluctantly, Cal opened her mind again to listen for danger, but was immediately struck by the thoughts of those around her; of potions, and hideouts, and gruesome knives. Focusing, she blocked these.<br/><br/>Zephyr took off, with a force that made the ground beneath their feet vibrate just a little, and Cal turned to follow Atisha. Before moving on, however, she looked towards the merchant.<br/><br/>“Can you walk on your own?” she asked. “If not, you may lean on me,”