[Sirithheruwen]

Lily and Posco were continuing to talk, but Twylight didn't feel like listening much. Excusing herself silently, she made over to the bar to get a cup of tea. To her chagrin, Marcho was still sitting there, an empty mug of ale in his hand. Twylight looked around vainly, but the only open seat was between a dark and travel-worn man and Marcho himself. Trying not to meet his eyes, she motioned for a cup of tea. While it was being made, she examined the man next to her. He had a cut on his right shoulder and her garments were stained in many places with congealed blood. His hair was dark and shoulder length. She was keen to see what his face looked like, but his back was to her. She excepted her tea.

Behind her, a feeble cough broke the silence between Marcho and herself. She swiveled her head slightly to see if it was him. It was now her turn to sneer. Turning back, she let her eyes wander into the depths of her tea, trying her best to ignore Marcho.