Pushing his seat back from the table, Capros mused on the question Andronicus had posed. He let the silence stretch through the moments, even as the world around the pair of them droned on in its usual order. Eventually, he shook his head and slowly stood. "There's too little we know to make guesses just yet." He had an idea, but he wasn't ready to commit to it and it was the sort of thing best left silent, anyway. Not that Capros was good at keeping his mouth shut, but... All he said, as Andronicus finished eating and the pair of them started to leave, was "we'll learn a lot when we encounter the guardians proper, if they're still on the road to Medea." Learn a lot they would... If the guardians were still standing proud, then either the theft was done with stealth and precision - or there had been no theft. If they lay in ruins, the list of potential claimants to the fleece would be short indeed. "Lead the way."<br/><br/>Looking out over the world before them, stretching from the edge of the little fishing village onward, Capros felt his spirit soaring with newfound purpose - but there was something... Unstable. A knowledge that this could - maybe would - crash down around him sooner or later. This wasn't the first time Capros looked to the horizon, but every time he reached towards the sun, he fell back down. No, that wasn't it. Every time he reached towards the sun, he was pulled down, dragged by the chains Artemis had forged about him. She would, at times, thank him for his work. Praise his method, or offer him a moment's respite, or even simply give him one day without her interference. But at the end of it all, he was only a tool she used to work her will. And she was not about to give up what was hers.