( [A] the journey thus far seemed to be full of teeth. first the winds and cold bit at his skin. one would be forgiven for fearing the blue tint of his flesh was from cold with how the weather beat down on them. and second... well the second set of teeth were quite obvious. too obvious for Deimos' liking. the wolves are larger than ones you might expect to find in woods, and almost downright terrifying in their own right. he lets out a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening that these wolves are the exceptions to the rule in this world and this isn't what they have to fear through their entire journey. how did these people get so far if these hounded their steps for so long? when the wolves step forward with teeth baring and spittle flying, Deimos is on his feet in mere moments. his rapier is in his right hand without a word, his crossbow wound around his left. he jumps free of the carriege, boots sinking in the snowbank, as he fires his first bolt off into the trees. a sharp, loud whimper, followed by a short snarl of a bark can be heard as his bolt finds it's mark. ) Run. ( he snaps at anywhere near him as the other wolves begin to move to flank. ) Before they close our escape. ( [B] snow clumps in his bangs while blood drips from his hands as he makes his way to the doors of the castle. he doesn't speak to the others, keeping his eyes only forward. he doesn't want to risk the others seeing him like this. not covered in blood, he's not alone in this. others fought alongside him. others fought deeper than he did. he knows most, if not all, here are just as familiar with the crimson viscera as he is. no. he doesn't want them to see the flash of joy in his eyes. like a child let loose off his leash to play as he might. the spray of blood coats his face, getting into his very being until he smells nothing else. it may not be the blood of a human, but the beasts were large and plentiful. spilling their blood had brought a smile to his lips. he chokes the smile down as he reaches the door of the castle. he's not only surprised when the skull speaks, but taken aback when it calls him beauty. he reaches up to accept the offered dagger with wide eyes, then glances at the person nearest as the skull asks for payment. ) Uh... I'm new and have no memories. May I ask for assistance with the door's request?

( Deimos sits at the table, awkwardly running his tongue over his teeth behind his lips in his usual nervous tick. it's not so much the request to not look back that has him awkward, it's the fact that he has no memory of ever eating at so fine a table. and faced with all the finery, he's quite certain he'll become a fool for a bard tonight. ) Believe it or not, I haven't eaten at a proper table in my near memory. ( he confesses to his tablemates before he can really think about what he's shared. it may be anecdotal, but there was no need to let the room know he was an untrained dog sitting at the master's table. ahem. he clears his throat slightly. ) Is there a point to so much cutlery? ( he glances at the dancing cutlery to see if he's offended one. he's not so certain he wasn't aiming for offense.... )

( it's the first time he's reached a proper town in his recollection. he's been through the blighted village, the goblin warcamp, the myconid colony, the creche... So many small communities but nothing like a proper town that was still thriving. it's a bit of a novelty if he's being honest. finding the wolves' den isn't hard to do. the claw marks litter more trees the closer you get to the abandoned huts. he's confused to find children present at the potential den and yet no wolves. why? why would the town allow such dangerous creatures to stay so close to home? to feed them? he thinks of Julienne's earlier explanation, but that's the castle. it's at least got gates to keep it safe. the town doesn't have such defenses and allows it's children close to the danger. and... cooked food? even he doesn't always eat his meat cooked, a wolf wouldn't be so picky he thinks. then there's the shawls... ) Why do you think they leave the shawls? ( his eyes narrow as the kids try to shoo him away, but instead he tries to address a fellow caravan traveller. ) The food is strange enough. The shawls don't make sense.

( Deimos did his best to choose those he approached to help him sneak into Julienne's quarters. he doesn't know people very well yet, but what better way to get to know his companions than through skulking about in the shadows together? he thinks it makes for a great bonding experience. getting into the room was middling what he'd expect. a simple lock to pick, easy diversion by Caitlyn and Cole. it's the magical barrier that tricks him most, makes him grateful he considered finding someone he thought might have some proper magical acuity. Benedict and his own companion handle the barrier, but when they get into the room Deimos stops short. his eyes are wide in surprise as he expected to find something of wild extravagance and magic. instead, he finds a room not unlike the rooms his companions and himself were offered. why the barrier when this room looked to be barely lived in at all? ) There has to be some reason the room was set with a magical barrier. ( he whispers to the others. ) We need to move fast and without disturbing a thing. Much harder with so little in here...