<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/0y8wEtc.jpg)  </div><br/>"Right," she muttered, seeking any spare candles to borrow, and if one is available she takes it.  (If not, she will use a few threads of the cotton in a lump of tallow as a short-term candle.)  Checking the elf's chamber, she glances up once more at the fair girl and watches as she walks away.<i>Well... someone is used to having things done for her.</i><br/><br/>She sets up the candle and checks the trunk carefully, sizing it up to ensure that it's not some mechanism of a larger trap... that would be poetic, wouldn't it? To give her the means to pick a lock and then make the only nearby lock a deadly trap?  She shook her head, carefully using her hands-- regardless of the dirt that would cake under her fingernails-- to dig out as much of the massive closet's edges as possible, and carefully assess its dimensions before proceeding to pick the lock with the hairpins, using the file as a torque wrench and a pin or two to trip the tumblers.