As the coarse men moved off into the streets, Erianthe met Lazarette’s eyes for a long moment.  (Looking into hers was like gazing into a starlit sky on a summer night.)<br/><br/>When they’d last parted, Erianthe assumed that Lazarette wanted nothing more to do with her—perhaps a matter of self sufficiency, she suspected.  That was why she hadn’t approached the human girl on the trip over.  Seeing now that there was no dismissal in the woman’s eyes, the cloud walker’s soft purple lips stretched into a kissable smile, then she crossed one arm in front of her waist and gave a bow.  It was low enough for silver hair to spill over her shoulder, and for her cleavage to start to emphesise, but not so low Lazaratte would merit of Erianthe knew her true station.<br/><br/>As she straightened up, a concerned elfmaid hurried out, showing concern for the spirit of the land.  Erianthe nodded gravely and followed them into the chapel.  After going briefly to one knee before the alter, she leaned back against the wall, halberd held in the crook of her left arm, and listened with attentive concern.<br/>