Silas followed his wife with a small frown on his face, writing down Kallista's various criticisms and things he himself noted about the compound. He smiled at her judgement of the colors. "I will make sure their priority is painting the walls, sheill." He joked, looking around them. It was a tad depressing, he supposed. Then again, he didn't typically care about how places looked, other than their home.<span style="font-style: italic">This <span style="font-weight: bold">is</span> our home now.</span>He reminded himself.<br/><br/>The elf was, frankly, appalled at the way information just flowed from the lips of the members. The White Wolf and his Mate were in the hospital, the shifter was missing, someone named Mallow was on the move, whatever that meant, and there was a war starting between the Werewolf packs and PM. Silas shook his head. He didn't even have to listen. Everything was just there to hear, for anyone who happened to walk by.<br/><br/>Though, that presented another problem. The elf pulled Kallista into a small alcove, frowning. He spoke only in Elvish. "The way information flows like wine in the dwarven mines is atrocious, but...they must be very sure that there are no spies here for that to be the case. Which means either they simply murder anyone acting suspicious, or there are enough powerful beings here to scare off any potential spies. I am confident one or both of us can defeat any of them, but we must consider it before we make our move.<br/>"We also must consider assassinating rather than outright fighting. Neither of us want that, I am sure, but I would prevent harm from coming to you or Paetra before I would face any of them in an honorable fight."<br/><br/>When they stepped out of the alcove, Silas reverted back to Old Common. "Let us go and see this garden of theirs. I wish to know the scale of it. Surely it cannot have been made by hand, and it may be a good place to gain a foothold."