Snippet #1446264

Zephora was slightly surprised that Blysse had returned to her side at the ball, but when she did the Chasind woman took one of Blysse's hands in her own, twining their fingers together, and held her hand close. She whispered against it words of comfort and ballads from her own village, meant to ease whatever it was that Blysse was feeling -- be it anger, sadness, or exhaustion. She glared with Blysse, snarled with her, and the two kept their table clear and peaceful.

When the assassination was completed, Zephora tucked the lower tiers of her dress upwards, refusing to let the frilly garment keep them from escaping uninjured. She attempted to stay as close to Blysse as possible, though allowing Cash to maneuver in next to the Dalish huntress as he reprimanded her for the position of her dress. Zephora, unable to understand the words, could only glean a meaning from the way he pointed and waved his hands in the air; it gave way to the Chasind woman laughing briefly, hiking her own skirts higher and sending a wink in Blysse's direction before hauling herself onto Dubhradh's back once they had reached their mounts in the stable. Upon making a stop the first time, Zephora changed back into her own outfit and replaced her sword on her side. Thinking of returning the garment she wore to the ball, she shook her head -- she stuffed it within her satchel instead, intending on giving it to Blysse as soon as the strange brother and sister were gone of their group.

She had acknowledged that the party had lost a life and had lost numerous others to different causes, but, at this point, Zephora felt little for the missing individuals. The only person she had really started to feel connected to was Blysse, the elven maiden that kept her distance from the group after escaping. Zephora was startled from her rest at the screams of Blysse and her halla, Dareth. Dubhradh had first alerted her, responding to the halla's bleating with agitation. Drawn to the scene, Zephora watched with stunned silence as Blysse transformed, tossed Valen across the camp, and then disappeared into the forest.

Though she could not assist in healing the halla, Zephora remained close to the forest's edge from that moment on. She camped at the edge of the forest, traveled there, and rested there. Though she knew not where Blysse was, Zephora was determined to act as her protector in some way. To be honest, she missed Blysse... her smile and her carefree laugh, even her halla that caused Dubhradh to act as unruly as he possibly could. Zephora interacted with the group when she needed to, bidding them a good morning or good night, offering them something from her hunts or her pack to use in preparation of meals, and replies of common courtesy, should she be addressed -- though it was unlikely she knew what the others were saying regardless. She did not make a point to attempt conversation, at this point in time she had not the patience to attempt to understand someone and try and figure out how to get someone to understand her.

She observed the small group from atop Dubhradh when they stopped, she stretched as one of the mages dismounted, followed by another. It was nice to be back in her leather with her sword at her side, that she could admit. When it appeared that the group was setting up camp, or at least taking some sort of extended rest, Zephora dismounted. She patted Dubhradh on the haunches, the large steed shuffling off into the shade to rest. The Battlemage scoffed, addressing Dubhradh as an old man before lowering herself to the ground; Dubhradh only grumbled in response. Zephora leveled a gaze at the group from her position, nodding in understanding and approval. As usual, she left herself open to approach, not wishing to seem cold towards the party that had taken her in on such short notice.