[ The clothes she’s seen people wearing in Mouse House look uncomfortable, revealing, and like nothing she’s interested in putting anywhere near her body, but there’s still work to be done, and the party some of their group have secured invitations to will be a wasted trip if they all look like they don’t belong there.

Stealing doesn’t sit right with Fei, and it shows in the way her jaw’s set while she walks through Mouse House with one of the other new arrivals, frowning at the dilapidated buildings that flank them on either side. The beginnings of an idea start to form as she sizes up her surroundings, mulling over how doing something she knows is wrong could be turned (at least somewhat) into a right. ]

We find a nice house, with young people in it.

[ She’s so concise when she speaks it could read as an order, but before the person she’s speaking to has a chance to question her words, Fei finishes her thought, walking briskly with her eyes on the cobbled path ahead. ]

Ma'am Mariol, and her charges - they need better things to wear. If we take them off the washing line no one will know we were there, if we take them from a wealthier-looking house, we will know they have money, and those are not all the clothes they own. We can help them, and the ones going to the party.

[ It sits a little better with her than simply stealing to better just their situations, and it’s definitely a lot less egregious than jumping innocent people and stripping off their clothing in an alley. If they can dull the edges of the wrongs they have to commit to get to where they need to go, then, why shouldn’t they? ]

[ Okay, so maybe keeping a dead rat pinned to the wall via that silly little junk sword she was given when she came here isn’t the coziest sight for a newcomer to be greeted by, but in her defense, Fei felt it sent a very strong message to the other rats. She’s got work to do, after all, and the amount of gold that’s on offer to clear these tracks and let the train pass is more than enough to help them in securing safe passage for the rest of the group. Though she’s been told he’s alright, she’s not going to be able to relax completely until she’s been reunited with her idiot husband, and that thought is all the motivation Fei has ever needed to press on with any task thrown her way.

Still, shoveling out these tracks is grueling, backbreaking work, and she’s a swordsman, not some grunt with hulking muscles, but at least the work it took to heft the weapon strapped across her back has given her enough strength over time that she can work for good stretches of time without having to stop.

It’s one such break she’s on when she hears someone approaching. Fei quickly pockets the flask of liquor she’s carried with her from home, her cheeks puffing out as she takes a big gulp before hiding it. Thankfully she swallows before anyone sees, lifting her shovel as she nods in the stranger’s direction. ]

Do you know how much time is left?

[ Her dark eyes dart in the direction of all the track that’s still left to clear. She doesn’t want to think about not having enough time to get it done. They need that gold, and if she has to work without ceasing, she will. ]

[ Even the name of the tavern is repugnant, but Fei understands the importance of the stranger she’s meant to keep safe, and even though this place stinks to high heaven of rotting alcohol and acrid sweat she stays where she is. Off to the side with her back mostly turned towards the rest of the establishment she keeps watch over the patrons.

Everyone looks seedy, but there are a few among the crowd that seems to have an air of readiness about them despite the presence of drink. These are the folks she pays special attention to, reading them as potential threats and sizing them up between small, calm, sips of wine. When the time comes and Rayssa shows her face, it’s them that she’ll expect to go for first.

Until then, however, there is nothing to do but wait and watch each person that comes through the door.

When Fei spots a familiar face - one of the other new arrivals staying at the orphanage - she turns enough to catch their eye, and, after assuming they are here for the same reason that she is, cock her head towards the table she’s occupying, issuing a wordless invitation to join her.

She’s not the best at small talk, but Fei understands how valuable an extra set of capable hands can be when the environment of a tavern turns violent. ]

Sit. Do you drink?

[ It's as fine a hello as anyone might get from her, and the absent wave she issues towards the bottle of what passes for wine in this place is as warm a welcome as she can muster given their fairly awful, very smelly, situation. ]

[ something else? shoot me a message if you’d like to work out something different, i’m open to anything and live for some plotting. also i'm happy to match format if prose is more your gig! ]