[BlueInTheShell]

"As the saying goes, some things are better left to wonder instead of study, I suppose." Wisp hummed, yawning for a second and rubbing her eyes - the dark mage looking at her hand and sighing when a bit of the charcoal she used to line her eyes was smeared along her palm. Nothing ever stuck to her skin when she needed it to. "I tend to provide what I can at least to protect others from the demonic. I like leaving the fun things like summoning them to myself," Wisp added, finally divulging smaller glints of precious knowledge, "The last thing you need is a child painting sigils on the ground and summoning something that's more than willing to burn down a village in exchange for a soul." Wisp said, grinning at the halfling when her eyebrows rose with inquisition. "You're cautious. You have a head on your shoulders that isn't laden with idiocy. Hmph. If I had to pick someone from this circus of adventurers to at least bring under a wing, it would be you. Take that as a compliment."

The more Wisp had thought about it, the more it seemed the best choice, should fate have dictated such a necessity. Deadwaltz was curiously, null of most magical potential. The woman seemed to some sort of anathema to the winds of the arcane, and the few times Wisp had attempted to teach the barbarian anything along the lines of simple tricks like small bits of healing, or prestidigitation had ended disastrously. Wisp shifted uneasily as she recalled Wisp trying to heal a nick on her finger, only to have it turn inside out. Kastivi was too impressionable to traffic with anything, at least in the dark mage's eye. She'd be led astray by every undead whisper and demonic promise that would come her way. Percival was...Percival. His mouth would end his life sooner than anything he could bargain for.

And then there was Christoval. The kid was just...Too pure. Paladin material. And while she could have been rewarded immensely in her patron's eyes for corroding a soul such as his, Wisp had other plans for the boy. He was a potential light for people to look towards, and while she was tempted by what she could gain from laying Christoval on a dais for Urkephalos, a small sliver of her just wanted...Wanted the best for everyone with the boy's future. He could do great things.

Wisp clicked her tongue and nodded at Arabella, making a subtle wave towards the barbarian, and leaning in close to Arabella, pretending to dress the Halfling's hair while she spoke in hushed tones. "Next time, look at Deadwaltz when you're talking to her. Really look. She smiles at everyone, and is polite and genuine to everyone. But when she talks to you? There is something extra." Wisp cooed, before shrugging her shoulders and looking at Waltz, a small smile forming over her features. "If you were going to ask, I would say as Waltz's friend, to just be blunt. You would be surprised at how many innuendos and sweet talk fly over her head."

Deadwaltz's attention was locked onto the embarassed looking wizard trying to defend his virtue in the bedroom; Waltz laughing like a loon and shaking her head before shrugging her shoulders. "Ah was gonna keep it between us, but ah'm sure half of the places I've gone to know about yah thrown out back when yah tried hefting my up onto the bed now. I think the town'a Janeloft calls yahself 'Hobbly Percy' now. Just so yah know if yah get called that somewhere." Waltz beamed, looking towards Kastivi once more and leaning in close. "Ah also would get ta runnin'. Hellhounds is fast things. Ah can't even run away from them and ah've tried lotsa times."

Wisp turned her attentions towards Percival and shrugged her shoulders. "And here I was, believing you too craven to pick up something sharp. Healers can stand the sight of gore, but can't endure producing it themselves." She said, a small playful jab sent his way before she looked over towards Kastivi. "I'm sure her knight in training will throw himself in her hound's way first. Chivalry, and whatnot." Wisp added, rolling her eyes at the thought.