Janelle had been waited over an hour after her flight before she realized he wouldn't be back soon. She had no clue when Arcaeus would return and also didn't want to risk leaving in case he came back while she was gone; so she waited and waited, doing pointless tasks to keep herself busy. She moved about the room, pondering different thoughts, regretting the decision of not following earlier; wondering how she was going to get the secrets out of him when she confronted him. She sharped her knife, listened to the conversations downstairs in the tavern. She went out to the balcony, rested her arms against the banister, slightly bent over and looked out at Mosebe. A woman was rounding up her children who were running around in the alleyways, laughing. The market place was packed with people; the men selling the merchandise haggling with customers. She looked up as birds flew past, singing songs as they went. She stayed out there for hours, thinking and watching until the sun started to set; it was a beautiful sight, she had seen better for sure, but it never got old she thought.<span style="font-style: italic">Especially when you're flying right by it, nothing in your way to see it in all it's glory.</span>She noticed the streets starting to dwindle with people and it wasn't soon after when she retired into the bedroom. She had just sat on the bed when she heard Arcaeus' voice at the door asking to come in, "Sure" she said.<br/>She had one eyebrow raised as he walked in, "So how did it go? What did you and your friend talk about?" She paused, wondering if she should go with a nice or angry approach.<span style="font-style: italic">Let's have fun. Unpredictable</span>she thought. "How about I give you a little more incentive." She quickly jumped off the bed, pinning him hard against the door. She swiped her legs under his feet, making him fall to the ground. She was holding him down while at the moment he halfheartedly tried to push her off. He began to pull his body up, and she shoved him hard against the floor once more, a low growl emulating from the back of her throat, "Well?"