Laszlo hears the girl's stifled tears. He says nothing, and after some time, he hears her breathing slow as she slips into sleep.<br/><br/>The whole plan had gone out the window, Laszlo'd nearly died, the Guild would likely be sniffing about soon, he's got a ward to feed, and he's losing a night's travel so as not to run off without said ward in the moonlight. He looks over at Anethrial, the girl is sleeping well enough. Laszlo should too, he'd only get a few hours tonight, but there's something he has to know before he can rest his eyes. He flicks his finger, and a candle sized flame flickers at his fingertip. He retrieves his scroll, and examines the address.<br/><br/><em>"Liseria"</em><br/><br/>So it had been the stone. But why change? And why change back? And why her? She'd behaved, no running, no words out of turn. He reads the rest of the scroll again,<em>"mountains, towers, and woods."</em>No doubt about it, wherever Liseria's portion is, the rest is in the hands of the dwarves, elves, and mages. Perhaps there'd be some clues in Red Stone, either way, it's on the way to the mountains.<br/><br/>Laszlo flicks out the flame, the exhaustion in his bones, and the hunger in his belly. He'll need to check the crate for food in the morning, hopefully there's a cache there for thieves lying low. No matter now, he needs sleep. He lays on the straw mattress for a while, mind reeling tiredly from the note, to Anethrial, to the coming moon. Sleep falls on him like a load of bricks.