[ The day is brighter, now, and Lauralae does little more than wrap herself deeper in her robe. Her hair hides her ears, what remains of them, and she tugs it deeper over her face, letting herself be buried in the shadows. The city is too large for her, too many people wandering around, whispering and calling out for friend and ally alike, and she shifts as she moves forward.

Iorveth is behind, examining knives and swords, she imagines, things that hold no interest for her, not with her scarred arms and the powerful force inside of her. She doesn't need nor require his alliance - she simply wants it, for what lies inside of him.

Still, she finds herself on the edge of the place, looking up at the fields that bustle around the outskirts, her face set and steeled before she twists, turning and moving out, walking down from the walls and back towards the markets. There are still things that she wants to find - vials, herbs, fabric and a belt, potions, perhaps, that she wants to take with her. If she is to go to Redgate then she must be prepared. ]