The old woman's babble of words washed over Artemis like water over river stones. She had no idea what the [i]hell[/i] the bat was talking about. But her eyes, wide and earnest, never left the woman's face as she tried to absorb everything. Her mind sped to keep up with the odd words being thrown around.

Kith. That boy had called himself Kith when that tree had been possessed by some devil and tried to eat him. He'd also talked about Pirates. Pirates and their iron and runes. Artemis cast a wary look down at the iron plates before stepping over them. She was careful to not let her bare feet touch them. As she crossed the barrier, movement once again caught her eye. Yes, there was [i]definitely[/i] someone there. Small and childlike in a white mask. Like the frog boy. Kith. Part of her whispered that she should tell the old woman about this observer. But the slyer part, the one that always knew to keep your cards close and to always know more than your mark said to hush up and wait. Because at that moment Artemis knew almost nothing. And she needed leverage. She forced her eyes back forward and continued walking. All the while her mind struggled to make sense of what little information she had.

Kith. Pirates. War. Argen. Tree.

…Breakfast?

It was the middle of the night. Why would she eat breakfast [i]now[/i]? She just added it to her ever growing mountain of questions she desperately wanted to ask.

[color=darkturquoise]"I'm sorry to hear about Argen,"[/color] Artemis said instead, hoping it would be enough to prompt the old woman to talk.

She came to a stop before the tree. Artemis eyed the weathered bark, ancient and still. It twisted its way through the remains of the cottage, form bent and solid as though it'd been like that for years. As though it hadn't gotten up and moved, spry as you please. Taking a moment to curse herself for offering [i]help[/i], she glanced around. How exactly was she supposed to get rid of this thing? The old woman had the only apparent axe (and even if there were a spare axe laying around, she had no interest in hacking away at this thing). Artemis glanced down at the Lantern in her hand. By all logic, fire plus wooden cottage equalled a [i]bad time[/i], so that option was out. But even if she didn't run the risk of setting the woman's home ablaze, Artemis doubted she'd try to use the Lantern and its furious blaze. Or if she even [i]could[/i].

Artemis slowly walked around the circumference of the trunk until she was in front of the branded rune. She leaned in close and her free hand rose almost without her noticing. Her fingers stopped inches away from the bark. Eyes filled with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, she glanced up at the tree. Nightmares of it living and [i]hungry[/i], holding up the boy in the mask flashed through her mind. The pads of her fingers met the scorched bark. The tree was still. Old woman momentarily forgotten, Artemis pressed the rest of her hand against the rune, feeling the deep grooves it made.

[color=darkturquoise]"Your work, I take it."[/color] She'd meant to sound appraising, but her words came out in what could only be called a wondered hush. The sound of her voice pulled her back and she quietly berated herself. She needed to get it together.