Snippet #2192085

Hmm....Lord of Night? Vooli didn't quite know how to react to this turn of events. "Y'seem ter be a bit removed fram yer homespace, eh? Not much 'Night' ta speak of out 'ere," she mocked, sweeping her arm across the sunny dunes. However, since they didn't leap at her throat or threaten her with violence, she relaxed her stance a bit. Vooli felt that the fact that this Valentine was indeed the writer she'd been seeking should have been significant to her, but it really wasn't. The truth was she didn't care either way who anyone was, as long as she reached the great spire in the distance.

"Hrmm...I don' trust yer, bu' I'll be willin' ta compromise in th' spirit o' gettin' ter th' mount yonder. Ye' gotta plan, er was 'make a bigg'n group an' hike it together' yer master scheme?" Vooli scanned the rest of the space around her cautiously. Another woman had shown up, much to her surprise. She seemed to be studying them with a certain wariness, and seeing as how her hand was on a rather large knife, Vooli casually gripped her spear in two hands again, ready for combat.

Every new variable thrown into the equation was another calculation Vooli would have to make on her own survival. The fact that she hated math didn't help matters any. It didn't matter in the long run, she supposed. Either she'd make it, or she'd go down fighting as hard as she could.