It was a far more somber group that gathered at the entrance to the Underground the day after the hunt. Jigano had spent far too much of the night up wearing himself out with worry, and only Rory's common sense and matching stubbornness had kept him from going back on his own in the middle of the night. Even so, morning had found him heading towards the Underground once more, as fast as he could travel. The sight of a familiar dark head on the street below had checked his flight, and he had dropped to accompany Deimos with a quiet croak of worry. There was no point in getting separated before they had even begun and compounding the problem, and his large, sword-savvy friend had proved his strength the day before. If they should run into anything else unfriendly, it would be good to have Deimos at his side.
The ghostly raven bobbed his head to those already gathered - men, women, and lions alike - and fluffed his feathers in concern as he looked down into the waiting depths. A good man was down there, one they couldn't leave behind, and the bard gently flexed his talons in impatience as he waited for Ronin to lead them down once more, careful not to puncture his friend's clothing, much less his skin.
The ghostly raven bobbed his head to those already gathered - men, women, and lions alike - and fluffed his feathers in concern as he looked down into the waiting depths. A good man was down there, one they couldn't leave behind, and the bard gently flexed his talons in impatience as he waited for Ronin to lead them down once more, careful not to puncture his friend's clothing, much less his skin.
