Theo shook his head. "I only know better because I've tried before. Elijah was the caretaker, not me. I don't know much of anything in that regard so don't beat yourself up too much. At least you can escape some of them and send the others. Maybe get yourself up to mischief finding out who Aneisha's new mystery man is."

Fletch grunted. "This is why he was the healer and I wasn't," he replied. "Potions and poisons and herbs were never my forte. I can just hear him dressing me down over the ten different ways I could have accidentally killed a patient with this kind of talk. Least you do it tactfully." He took another sip, out of sorts at the idea that so much was happening all at once without any room to breathe. "I guess neither of us are getting out of it easy, are we?"

He kept his mouth shut and had to dip his head to hide the surprised brow raise he gave the other man to see him almost fawning over Aya. All the months Theo had known Fletcher not once had he spoken in anything less than exasperation towards the dog he felt obligated but not attached to caring for.

"Too sick and they'll stay home and send for the healer. Not sick enough and I'm dragged along with a hovering mother. Besides somehow I don't think 'why yes I just destroyed my insides, let's have fun now,' sounds as inviting in reality. This of course paired with that kind of repeated illness can't be good for my actual health. It was worth a thought though I suppose," he added hurriedly realizing how it must have sounded shutting down the person actually trying to help him. 

The loud cry, surprisingly, did little to rouse the goblin girl. Surprising, honestly-- given how big and somewhat floppy her ears were, you'd think she would be more susceptible to noise than anyone. Yet instead of opening her eyes, she unconsciously tightened her grip on the orange cat, snuggling him a bit closer to her like a body pillow as she continued to snore away. This was particularly problematic-- Goblinda had a bad habit of drooling and nibbling on anything within nomming distance of her mouth while asleep, and though she hadn't resorted to biting just yet, she couldn't help but drool all over the poor cat in her grasp... out of affection, surely.

"Oh, dear-- it sounds like the cat woke up... Be right back," Came a muffled voice from some distance away, outside of the room. The door was thankfully open; Morthil's yowling may not have reached Goblinda, but they seemingly reached... someone.

Said 'someone' slowly popped into the room just a few moments later; A brunette woman of some 20 or more years. And a pretty woman, at that; Her eyes shifted between sterling silver and emerald green, dependent on the way light reflected off of them, and her peach-skin seemed to nearly glow in the ambient light granted by the room's windows. Save for a few freckles across her face, and a taller, slightly more meaty build, she might've passed for a Serenian moreso than an Adelan. Her garb-- a plain, traditional, tan-and-white Adelan dress was a bigger giveaway than anything else.

"Cats are usually the heavier sleepers... but I suppose you're not an ordinary cat, right?" She spoke up, before taking a few steps further in. It was only when she fully rounded the doorway that it became apparent she wasn't wandering in empty-handed; She carried with her a tray, upon which there were an assortment of traditional meats, porridge and a couple of cups, which she quickly went to set down on the table. The tray must have weighed at least half of a person; It was no wonder she was quick to be rid of it.

"Phew... that should do. Sorry, friend-- I tried tending to your little paw as best I could, but Lin wouldn't let go of you... Still hasn't, I see. But I'm getting ahead of myself-- You must be so confused as to where you are, and why... Sorry." So saying, she took a chair from the table she'd set the tray down at, walked over toward the bed, and sat down for a spell to chat. She seemed rather at peace with the fact that a goblin was resting just next to her-- She clearly wasn't... well, 'normal', but who was anymore? "My name is Linda-- Lin for short, I suppose. I own a few storefronts here in Ketra, and help out from time to time with administration for guildwork. No need to worry about pretending to be a cat with me," She said with a proud smile, though a layer of mischief played underneath her words, "I've been fluent in beastspeak for years... but you tend to mutter in your sleep. In common tongue." She teased, before crossing her legs. 

"I know this all must seem very strange-- but why don't you tell me your name? And how you ended up in 'Lin's... um... 'care'?"

A silent gloom fell over the duet of warriors as they sat; The midday sun as radiant as it was oppressing. Essyrn's heat was ill-mitigated by course of the river, soothing though it was. Despite the heat, however, Kiri felt not a bead of sweat run down her brow... A likely side effect of the transient state of her soul. Curious-- if a little disturbing. An ever-present reminder of her circumstances, that she was no long truly an inhabitant of this world... Moreso a stranger in a strange land, or a figment of history's imagination.

"Down there!"

She took a moment to take in a long, deep breath, expanding her lungs and revitalizing her body. The skittering footpads had gone from a distant echo to a very noticeable clamor, and now were accompanied by the tell-tale jingle of tempered metal against metal, and the  flapping of leather against skin. Those weren't random animals mucking about in the distance-- they were camels, with leather straddling mounts and-- as was typically the case-- leather-clad men and women doing said straddling on mounts.

The stink of the animals was already more or less upon her heightened senses before they even closed in; Thankful was she that she thought to savor the last bits of air before they drew closer.

"Scumbag! Thought you'd escape us after the stunt you pulled last night, huh?" The accusation was thrown like a foul, month-old fish at the back of Snarg's head, as four hooded figures hurriedly approached the two resting souls at the riverbank, dismounting their camels and strutting toward the two resting warriors. They were an intriguing lot; the leather armor they wore was fairly uniform, with a few deviations between one another out of preference. All bore the same insignia on their right shoulderpad; That of a front-facing lion's head, with wings seemingly sprouting from behind. They were all armed, as well-- though that wasn't surprising in this world, all things considered.

Kiri didn't move, in spite of their proximity and hostility. They weren't talking to her-- surely they weren't. She was right, of course-- though not because she somehow knew the future. Moreso did she sense the tension and intent of the scimitar-wielding strangers long before they so much as opened their mouths.

"Thought you'd make a fool of our boss and run off with that bitch of a giant, huh!? Where's our fucking gold!?"

Of the four, two men-- the particularly mouthy one, as well as one other-- were the closest. Neither'd drawn a blade yet, potentially out of concern for scaring off the resting Kiri near to him, or from a show of patience. Granted, the latter seemed particularly incredulous in the circumstances, as not even moments after he'd come in barking as hot as he had, the mouthy man had placed a boot to Snarg's back, rather disrespectfully nudging him to stand up. "Can't fucking believe we had to track you down-- Can't even find that other piece of shit-- But if you don't cough up what you did with our fucking gold...!"

"Tanner, calm down-- you're gunna scare the girl." His nearby compatriot chimed in.

"FUCK THE GIRL! IF I DON'T GET THAT GODDAMN MONEY BACK EVERY LAST ONE OF US IS FUCKING DEAD!!" 'Tanner', apparently, replied in kind.

Said 'girl' finally exhaled, having had a particularly calming meditative breathing session. She could feel her mind sharpening and her awareness heightening with every passing second, as she willed the effects of the poison out of her very being. Good grief-- what a relief to be able to think clearly again. She almost smiled-- but settled for a contented face faulting instead as she opened her eyes and got a proper view of the situation they... or, well, mostly the dog, had gotten into.

"Oh, I'm not fussed," Fletch snorted as he leaned back against a beam. "I'll keep your secret, Father Yule. No need to worry." He sneered at Theo's description of holiday noble antics, tutting and shaking his head. "Regent's holy ballsack. Your people are something else entirely. Yeah, because it is fake. Bloody exhausting, honestly. I'll take real and penniless over that any day. I don't envy you it, I really don't." He thought on what he'd just said and chuckled to himself. "Who'd have thought I'd be saying a thing like that?"

Her source of attention gone, Aya approached him and shoved her nose between his knees, wagging her tail and waiting expectantly for a pet. "Hey, girl," he murmured, and bent to scratch her behind her ear. "Dewey's done you good, hasn't he, fleabag? Maybe you're his, now, ey?" He was surprised to find himself engaging with her at all. He'd been so adamant about avoiding reminders of Ven as midwinter drew near, and yet here he was, and it didn't sting half as much as he'd expected. Theo's presence in his life, it seemed, had soothed a lot of wounds. He wondered if the man saw it.

"Hmm." Fletcher rose and leaned back against the beam again, still nursing his coffee. "You know...I think there are herbs to make you sick. Like, undeniably ill. For kids who eat what they shouldn't have eaten, right? I know there's one that's in and out of you in an hour, tops, too. So if we get the right one, maybe you can skip the parties whenever you feel like it. And then I'd have to skip the parties, too."

Theo shrugged. His own experiences were so different that he couldn't really comment on how true or not Fletcher's words were. However, when he realized he had let Fletcher in on his own secret tradition, he blushed and looked away embarrassed.

"Well I mean they do their own celebrating of course and they all try to have gifts for each other. My parents give the majority of them Yule Eve off and Yule morning. Kenna and Olivier will likely still work extra but the rest of you can at least enjoy it. I always purchase a barrel of drink for their festive and some small useless gift for each of them. It's stupid and not much I know," he muttered with an embarrassed shrug. "They don't know any of it comes from me except Kenna who helps me with it. Sorry to spoil the magic for you I guess."

He kicked over an empty bucket and sat down on it in thought while Gin and Tonic swarmed at his feet for head pets. "It's a relentless mess of rapidly increasing parties until as it gets closer it's one or even two a night. The closer to Yule yours is, the higher standing in the community you have. If the forces that be are with me I can take ill with plague and avoid the majority of them from the comfort of my bed. Everyone just constantly drunk and loud and merry. It just all feels so...fake."

"I do think. No one's that fucking chipper about Yule. And she's young. They feel it different, you know." Fletch frowned, shrugged, and sipped on his coffee. "Is that how you usually do it? Ordering for the staff? I figured we just scraped it together and made our own fun. I don't think your bodyguards will all be there, though. One of us has got to follow you to whatever holiday nonsense your mum's got planned. Unless your dad's really feeling in the giving spirit," he snorted. "What's the damage, anyway? How bad'll it be? The Obower clan have you over, you have them over...?"

"You think?" He asked getting to his feet and moving further away from the bodyguard in order to spoil the horses. "I mean I know she's growing up but..." he shook his head and rubbed Maple's nose. "I was really hoping it's the time of year.

"Mm! That reminds me I need to send some letters tonight to place some orders for the staff or it's going to be a very sad for you all. I don't know what's worse: Mother or the endless holiday parties to attend."

Fletcher shot the nobleman a dark and warning glance before following him into the stables. He craned his neck. "Huh. Wonder where Dewey's gone off to?" he muttered to himself. He'd been hoping that they weren't alone. At the moment, alone felt dangerous. He stood a ways back, watching Theo and the dog, both hands pressed to the warm mug as he huddled over it. "Oh, she's got herself a boy, I'm dead sure of it," he growled. "She just hasn't figured that out yet, apparently. He'd best be her age for his sake, that's all I'll say."