The circle of wagons was all but a wonder to Wiflor in the end, a thing that she speculated to be without end for no matter where she looked the line of wagons did not stop.  Around and around and around she would go, smiling a bit with interest as she kept to her toes, and with a hop towards the last of her little twirls to watch the scene she'd dance across stone to the nearest of the wagons.  Why was it they needed so much? She did not know.  Yet if it made them happy then why should she not be happy as well for them?  Touching to her new collar she questioned why she shouldn't be, but could find no answer in the end.<br/><br/>Thus she was happy.  Perhaps it was a simple manner of thought and yet at the same time it was the kind of thought one could hope to expect out of Wiflor, her mind often circling things or coming up with a crazed process time and time again and going with it whether or not she was right in what she believed.   What she believed now was easy enough however.  They were happy, thus she should be, and for that reason alone it was no issue for her to stay in such a way.    What came to be however Wiflor did not appreciate...Change.<br/><br/>As Atticus returned with a sleugh of mercenary her eyes would dart towards the many of them.  Her sixth sense was all but wild now, feeling a very common trait of the mercenary.  Greed, desire, and before a few of their eyes lust.  Every hair and bit of fur across Wiflor's body would stand on end, a low hymned growl taking itself to note as she stepped back and hid behind Cyrus.  She had been all but pulled and scared by children, faced merchants and adults who gawked and stared, but this would be the first time she had taken such quick aggressions to people who needless to say were here for the job.<br/><br/>However they were also accompanied by Atticus, and where it was true she could be left picking her teeth with their fragmented bones she would not strike.  She figured he had his reasons and as Cyrus spoke with Atticus and the team of mercenaries, surely they did as well.  After a time she'd stop her growling and watch from afar, her tail flicking a bit angrily at the presence of the strangers with temptation holding so dear to them.  It was something she struggled with holding back, and more so as two of them out of the many caught sight that she herself even wore some of the treasured gold.<br/><br/>She could barely put up with it and she knew what they desired, but damned to it they'd not have it.  Staring she'd wait and finally watch as Cyrus returned, finished speaking with them.  The moment he came near she'd crouch on all fours and follow by his side, in the end ready to pounce if need be.  Which to their fortunes never came to be.  As Atticus set to the tower with his band, Cyrus and Wiflor went their separate way and though Wiflor worried about the band of mercenaries following Atticus she felt she should put some faith in Him and Cyrus.<br/><br/>Thus she'd follow Cyrus in silence, making sure that none of the mercenaries were following.  Not that she'd pay it a great heed ultimately. She simply let time flow as they crossed the grounds, heading to the next stop on their trip.  Faladin....Not that she'd know the place by name, or sight, or smell...,or anything really.  There was so little she knew in the end...