[Anora Eventide]

Strange that she did not expect it. Anyone else who had spent an ounce of time amidst the pair would know that a joint or solo endeavor was not in the cards for Anora. But she found herself bemused as she was carefully deposited elsewhere by the bear. His favored pet forbidden to risk itself in the pursuit of one less favored.

Her behavior was a compulsion. She needed to be useful. Her worth was coiled tightly around her utility. But she was occasionally wise in accepting aid. If the man wanted to do it for her, she would not and could not fight him on the issue. There was not going to be a spat about her level of competence as the dog gurgled into the marsh.
Having someone take on a portion of her concerns was almost…pleasant. But the ferocity with which Anora clung to some difficulties would make further incidents a veritable stand off. For now, it was his dog, she had little ground to expel him from any task regarding it.

Anora only sat behind Dimitri, clasping her hands around his ankles until he drew back with the sodden mass of fur in his arms. She turned away to fetch the lantern, a smile daring to rise on her hidden face.
Dimitri's question was answered first with a blank look as she absorbed the broad and looming man painted in dismal silt, resembling a terrible guardian of the slough. After a caught breath, she gave an affirmative nod, and moved near his side.

As they began to walk, she glanced at the dog, slumped in its master's arms dripping green tinged slop. Anora shook her head and addressed it with a touch of disgust.
"Stupid thing. Fortunate its corpse isn't being fished from the marsh as a specimen for my practice."
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the hound, "I'd bubble its undead hide with acid like the last one."
Having dispensed with her threats, Anora settled into a quiet ease, no longer vexed by the creature's sudden disappearance. What it had pursued still tagged the end of her thoughts, but they were breaking free of the marsh for the evening.

Returning to a normal state of mind, Anora sourly observed that her riding boots were haloed in gritty mud and her skin flecked with the stuff. Dimitri wore it like a new skin, patches of him resembling a duskier version of the Dark Elves.
In a rare gesture of affection, she stopped her trek and silently beckoned him nearer. From some miraculous pocket, she fished out one of her handkerchiefs, perfumed with violets, and gently wiped off what mud threatened to fall in his eyes. It was a quick, mechanical exchange, like tying a lace, and she resumed their walk hastily.

The camp's flickering boundary, formed by undulating firelight, washed over them soon enough. Anora took a breath, satisfied that she had wandered a space before resigning herself to such tight quarters.

She blew the lantern out before she spoke, "Thank you, Dimitri." She continued briskly, "I think I will make myself presentable and join you again."
Her eyes, oddly more vivid for the lack of light cast into them, trailed up and down his figure, "As I warrant you might want to change as well."

After reaching Dimitri's tent, Anora gathered up what clothes were previously offered and excused herself.
In time, her shadow again fell across the front of his tent. Her silhouette paced slowly until she was bid enter.