She’s still not entirely sure why the Basin tolerates her here. To her credit, she’s thrown herself into this herd, getting her butt whooped for its benefit now. But still, she’s definitely trouble, though usually of a relatively tame variety. Hot tubs and flirting and drugs were hardly concerning, really, just the harmless sort of trouble that is entertaining. “Definitely my middle name,” she says in agreement, using the cliché without hesitation. Own it, and it works. She waits for Rhodoc to take a bite, and then she snags some for herself, leaving some for Mortuus though suspecting the demon won’t touch it. Not much of a demon.

He does finally joining them though, and she gives him a sly smile and a wink, glad to have him in the springs. Even if he’s only half it, it seems like the best she’s going to get. One day she was really going to have to get to know him better. There seemed to be more than met the eye with him (though there always is, so this isn’t hard to guess at). She’s also not surprised when Mortuus warns Rhodoc against asking the other healers such questions. Weaver doesn’t know Enna, but if she’s anything like Tia and Lena, well then yea, it makes sense.

She debates sliding up closer to Mortuus, but doesn’t, suspecting that won’t bring his wall down but make it even damn taller. Instead she laughs slightly, saying “I’m always careful,” in a tone that makes it very clear this is a bald faced lie. She is never careful. Then, quieter, mostly for Mortuus but hardly keeping it from Rhodoc, “You’ll find I’m hard to kill, dear mender.” Not that he wouldn’t see his fair share of her anyway.

Mortuus goes into an explanation of the sentinels, and Weaver just listens, noting the mention of prejudice that creeps in. That seems to be a trend here. But of course, prejudice doesn’t die easily. She’s heard more of the story by now, has visited the tomb of the last Lord, will one day seek the cave of wings. It doesn’t bother her so much, though she misses flying. She’s smart enough not to flaunt the wings on her back all the time, though she fights with them because she’s generally low on other advantages. Instead, she flits about here in raven form, hoping they don’t mind birds too.

She’s vaguely tempted to shift into a bird, wondering how that would go over in Rhodoc’s slightly drug addled brain. Hell, how would that go over in her drug addled brain? What was it even like to be high as a bird. Pay attention she thinks, a mental sort of smack coming through their bond from Raven at the same time. He felt a little bit more like Mortuus regarding the drugs and the ridiculous behavior of his bonded, but he tolerated her. She remains silent here, letting the boys talk jobs, debating if she could swim in the hot springs.

- weaver -