Among those milling about the House of the Morning were, perhaps oddly or perhaps not, more than one soul who had arrived together and openly wore a holy symbol of Tymora: a silvery coin-disc about a neck pendant. One such, a tall and rather lean raven-haired fellow in silvery-white somewhat priestly-looking garments festooned with copious jewelry, seemed to've noticed the bored, tired book of a certain Cecily. He padded up the hallway after the she-warrior, humming to himself and actually impeccable in tune. When he spoke his voice was slightly sardonic-sounding, though, "Find the holynoses hereabouts just a trifle too lofty, or upon high horses high as the sun itself?" he asked with a somehow good-natured snicker.<br/><br/>~~<br/><br/>A wispy blonde lass who likewise bore a Tymoran symbol, atop quite short-skirted priestly robes of silver and white, moved quietly across the temple foyer chamber on her sandaled foot without seeming to try to be so. She'd approached Dev'Lan mere moments after she first noticed him, and smiled almost flirtatiously at him but stood quietly, listening to the music; but within moments she was humming along, and swaying her body under its robes.<br/><br/>~~<br/><br/>A raven-haired lady Tymoran halted midway across her traipse through the temple orchard, gawking at the winged cats she beheld in a tree. She noticed then the praying priestess (and her own green eyes lingered for a length of time on Kelsie's chest commensurate with its ampleness), and paused to listen, without speaking herself.<br/><br/><br/>~~<br/><br/>Shortly after the temple doors had closed behind Arivel and the next visitor thereafter, the double doors swung truly wide suddenly (causing that latter visitor to squawk in surprise and leap out of the way, he having loitered just behind them to swap gossip with a fellow townsman). Three figures came in abreast, yet the center one sagged unconscious with his flanking fellows holding his arms across their shoulders. Dried blood caked down from his left temple, matted blonde hair, and the breast of his plate armor. A more wiry, darker-haired fellow had his right arm, a slender redheaded lass his left; both those worthies wore drab traveling garb. Behind them came two more redheads who might've been siblings or even twins, their faces were so alike - so too the bodies their daringly cut and short-skirted wizardly robes (if they could still generously be called that) afforded more than glimpses of. The dark-haired man carrying his fellow howled, in far-echoing pitch-perfect tones despite their angst, "Heeealer!" The redhead across from him scanned with hazel eyes all those in the temple's central foyer, whether townsfolk, traveler, or clergy.