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As a protector, Verđandi followed the group's motions, stepping in to be able to respond to anything that could be stalking them in the night. Edrion's clean up and calm lead tickled the younger version of herself - memories of being alone but not lonely, someone to come to for advice or a beat down, sharing garden seeds or the recent harvest, helping the young hunters to dress their deer. The learned motions from the old man was like looking into a mirror, altered for obvious reasons of course, and that reminder kept a gentle smile on her face for a little while longer as she stepped in to place with the group following Edrion.

The near-silence around them made the warrior highly conscious of every step she took. She'd rank herself as the most armored in the pack, and even with her comfort in her gear, she winced a little at the smallest noise her plates made. Silly to have such a small thing bothersome to her, but in this kind of night even the smallest of rustles could mean life or death. She didn't linger long on that train of thought though, for the old man held this aura of serenity, and even her facial winces went away as they all trekked along.

That haunting melody the old man hummed felt so familiar and yet so alien. It was like a forgotten tune from her childhood, something dancing on the tip of her tongue but not quite recognizable. It felt like both a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the mourning of a spouse losing their love. She couldn't help herself: some of those hums came from her too. In and out she joined Edrion like a fading choir. She didn't even know she was singing along until the trees broke away to the meadow described and their guide stopped his music. Verđandi wondered why she needed to clear her throat for a moment. It's not like she had been talking too much, had she? Was there also a mental toll on fighting the Darkness that she was unaware of that affected her now?

Thoughts of the past left her as Edrion welcomed the group to his home. She found it lovely, quaint, and with just the right amount of balance between craftsmanship and nature's bounty. Verđandi gave a warm smile to Edrion, and bowed her head in thanks and respect as she accepted his invitation. For the sake of politeness, she tapped her boots before the threshold, knocking a few chunks of damp dirt off them before she dirtied his floors too much. As the first one in, she wanted to step to the back to allow everyone else ample room to enter and tour the place, but the defender in her heart begged her to stay near the entry and make sure everyone else entered safely and that they weren't followed.

Instead, she decided on a middle ground. Verđandi positioned herself comfortably between the end points of the cabin within visual - and reactory range - of the door and the landscape without. As the others filtered in, and the danger the outside could pose diminished, Verđandi found herself running her gaze over the collectibles and books upon Edrion's shelves. Some of these felt old, while others merely attractive trinkets found along one's travels. She turned to Edrion, curious. [color=20B2AA]"Your collection is attractive. Do they all have a story or were they just pretty?"[/color]