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Fortunately, bandages are standard issue though when Scarlett starts talking to herself we know a simple bandage won't be enough to fix. Ziva offers some water. The woman takes it. Cherishes it. Slumps a little in the chair, not as rigidly poised now that she realises you aren't like the last lot. She doesn't look like any village local. They do bread their hair, like her, but they don't wear travel clothes with deep pockets and a few tactical inserts of metal to ward of the errant blow.
Scarlett asks about the food. It does look quite invite. And the woman shakes her head. Yeah, might be so.
" But it isn't for us. It's a friendship offering. A feast invitation. They made the locals do it before they drove them off. It's an old tale. It's food for the flicker-friends, yeah?
It's really a ... trick of a kind. You're have not been invited to partake by a host, so you take some, that's a hospitality insult.
Bad thing, that. To go spitting on hospitality. But you don't eat some. . . Well. You're insulting the hospitality too. Spit on the craft of the baker.
Can't eat. Can't not eat. The trick is to sit at the table. Maybe sip some water. Go long enough and you out last the feasting.
Just sit at the table, don't tocuh and last throughout the night. Harder than it sounds. They don't have table manners if they get going.
You lot aren't . .. From around here, are you? Wait, flames and candlelight, are you --- That's a uniform!! You're with the Outfit came through weeks ago! "
She's shocked, eyes wide - can't believe her luck. Or curse, as the case may be. Shakes her head. Doesn't say anything else for a while.
" ... ah shit I had hoped you were backup. Oh we are all so going to die here. The Windsworn are looking for you! That's why they took all the villagers! Just my luck. "
Optimistic sort, isn't she.
>We exhaust a bandage, though luckily Zivka brought extra.
>We exhaust some water
>The house seeem defensible enough, though there's no way to know what they're doing out there.
