The girl was let inside.  Zain listened intently, picking up only a few words..<span style="font-style: italic">house</span>...<span style="font-style: italic">own</span>..<span style="font-style: italic">Viandante</span>?  Was that what she called this place, he wondered?  His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the word<span style="font-style: italic">spell</span>.  He knew it!  Indeed, there was no doubt plaguing his mind that it had originated here.<br/><br/>Someone stepped outside.  It was the speaker from before.  She was young, quite pretty.  She didn't seem dangerous to him, but Zain knew better.  He could smell the magic radiating from her body.  There was no present memory to explain why he knew, but it was clear to him what manner of being stood before him.  She stopped dead in her tracks, and Zain froze as well.<br/><br/>"Whose there?" she said, her tone cautious, but there was something knowing about it.  There was no point in trying to hide anymore, she knew he was there.  He strode around her, and as he stood nearby his form rippled as he relinquished the disguise.<br/><br/>"Alright, alright, easy now," he said slowly, choosing his words with care, "I'm not an enemy, here."  He hoped that would suffice to pardon him from creeping around her yard in the middle of the night... "What you did earlier, I mean.  I- can you do that again?"<br/><br/>He wasn't going to lie, it was calming.  He liked it.  It settled the the pain of hunger in his stomach and the cold that had gripped him in the wilderness.