[ The bond that's between them is, in Lauralae's eyes, a fleeting, fragile thing. It's like a newborn; small, easily damaged and scared. In truth, she doesn't know how to handle what is developing between them - for all that Elizabeth is kind (and handsome, if she is going to be honest with herself) there is a steel block between them. Lauralae is not the kind to believe that anything between them might last longer than the bond between teacher and student. She knows what it is to be used; it's as clear as daylight.

It doesn't mean she doesn't intend to enjoy it whilst she can, of course. Her eyes cast down, drawing her gloves higher on her hands and securing them before she steps ahead, watching at the ease with which Elizabeth holds herself; it's as though she was born and bred into power, and whilst Lauralae knows nothing of her history she believes it to be likely. She has the gait, she has the power.

The nearest clearing is a few strides to the east and she makes the movement easily, turning her body and barely turning her head back to look at her friend - it's better to say ally, she thinks - before she nods, once, sharply. ]

It would be better to learn quickly. You will not survive for long alone if you don't educate yourself, no matter how much power you have.

[ She doesn't pick up on the humour, the tenderness of it lost on her, and she moves to breach the clearing and step through, frowning as her robe is caught on a thorn. She takes the moment it needs to undo herself before she feels her face go a touch pink, staring at Elizabeth before she turns her head away.

Foolishness. ]

I have had nothing to fear. Iorveth is a good companion and a capable warrior and I have more power in one hand than most have in all their body.