Bweeeem!
The owl sunk into the dark below and with the flick of a metaphorical switch his eyes projected a bright glow. Wilthro made for a great table lamp to read at for sure, but illuminating an eerie, stinky and spooky sewer system was a good secondary purpose. Withholding a grin was never her forte, though. And seeing an owl’s eyes light up like candles on Christmas evening wasn’t a typical occurrence, piercing as they were, so the surprised glances from the group were… amusing, somewhat.
“He beeps when he backs up, too.” The pirate stated, clearly trying to play this off as casually as she could without raising too many suspicions, but glowing owls? Yeah, not a normal thing at all to the general audience and there was a story behind it all if Serena was bothered enough to explain it to the group.
Magic was a weird phenomenon...
“Now stop staring or you’ll go blind, idiots.” She added through a giggle, jutting her head slightly away from Wilthro to avoid the blinding rays beaming from his eyes. The owl hadn’t really moved an inch, just clung tighter around his companion’s shoulders with his claws. To which Serena showed little sign of discomfort. Not like the grimace when she first took a good sniff of the shitty aroma that hung around the place. Raven had done a good deed handing out those masks.
Serena was thankful Blondie had volunteered to lead the group, and the pirate had managed to fit herself snugly between the Elf and the alchemist when they scoured the grimey corridors for any sign of their diamond ring.
… And the pretty damsel in distress, of course.
But their search was like reaching in the dark, and instead of shiny and pretty things the group dug up a pair of rabid hobos gleefully licking their lips at the sight of a fresh meal that wouldn’t be to everyone’s tastes. “Eww… At least cook them first.” She murmured, trying not to look too closely at the grim (and probably disturbing) scene.
“I swore last time I wouldn’t tumble with cannibals, they’ve got some weird ideas.” Serena answered. She’d never pretended to be much use when these kinds of tactics were concerned, and Blondie asking her what to do only resulted in a lacklustre shrug. “Maybe sick our flying torch on ‘m? Pretty sure to get a reaction at least.” The pirate made a sideways glance at her feathered friend, but Wilthro hadn’t budged an inch after his sudden enlightenment.
“I’d rather not disturb a freak when it’s off the leash. Any raised hands for turning back and trying another sewer? Maybe one with less stink.”