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At the suggestion — or, well, at that point it [i]might've[/i] only been a question — of moving down their own, the thought of a destructive fire spell briefly flashed in Silje's head. They could. It could be [i]fast[/i], too, but fast was also [i]flashy[/i], and she wasn't sure if flashy was good. There were a lot of secret goings-on... well, going on.

A carbine was tossed Silje's way, though she was too preoccupied to notice before Kalina had already snatched it and offered it to her. Silje grinned, reaching for the weapon with both hands. They weren't her favourite way to deal with things, since in most situations using them felt like trying to pick a lock with a hairpin instead of just [i]blowing up the entire door[/i], or... something like that! But she was still a WARDEN, adept at handling mundane weapons in addition to magic, and since they were lacking Mist right now—

[color=a1e1fd]"Thanks!" [/color]she chirped, smiling despite herself as she glanced up at her friend — her smile growing ever wider as Kali confirmed that they should actually go after the man who had the princess! Justice thought so, as well — and indirectly said no to the big flashy explosion, boo. Somewhere in all their minds, Morden confirmed he was holding off whoever was downstairs. 

It was settled, then. She'd focus on finding Stupid Mr. Sunglass-Head! Or, rather, she'd find his cargo; the girl who was practically leaking Mist. She wasn't sure if the spook had done something to suppress that, just as someone had suppressed the Mist in the room, but if not—

Instead of heading for where they'd come from, she tried to break off to see where the spook had originally ran off to, focusing on the colours around her without loosening her grip on the carbine. Her world was slowly getting more and more saturated again as Mist seeped in, but it was still at half a capacity — which, she hoped, would actually be [i]useful [/i]in what she tried to do! She gathered Mist around her, called for it, molded it into a form better fit for purpose, then sent it back out again — flowing towards where there was more of it. Where, perhaps, a constant [i]source [/i]of it was being held. It was a magical, heat-seeking missile of concentrated Mist, swimming through the air fast and furious as a shark, teeth bared, trying to smell blood.

Err, Mist. The blood would come after. [/color]