Captain Quinton Church felt a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as the wind began to pick up, seemingly responding to the tension in the air. The atmosphere had shifted dramatically, and his instincts told him they were treading on dangerous ground. With the sent of her magic still very much in the air he started to look around and along both ways the road led. There was noone within sight thankfully, but he knew of all things the elf wouldn't showcase her gifts publicly. . Still her abilities gave him a knot of stress and his movements mirrored his sense of urgency.

“Here, put this on,” he said, his tone firm and somehow lacking a formal sense of concern. He glanced around, his eyes scanning the horizon as if expecting something—or someone—to appear. “We need to get back to the boat.”

He turned and began leading the way down the path toward the shore, his pace brisk. The captain’s mind raced with thoughts of what might happen if anyone had seen or sensed what had just transpired. He knew the risks involved, and they were too great to ignore. Every step closer to the rowboat felt like a step back toward safety, away from the unpredictable forces that seemed to swirl around them.

As they reached the boat, Captain Church now politely helped Ayla step in before taking his position at the oars. The familiar rhythm of rowing brought a measure of calm to his thoughts, though his mind remained focused on the situation at hand. The water lapped gently against the hull as they moved away from the shore, heading back toward The Silver Wing.

After a few moments, the captain spoke, his voice low but steady. ““I need to know—do you want anyone else on the crew to know about this? Or should we keep this between only Bash and myself?”

His gaze remained fixed ahead as he awaited a response, the weight of the decision heavy in the air. The ship loomed closer, a sanctuary of sorts, but also a place where every move and word would matter more than ever.