A subtle look of reproach, however faint,lingered on Rhiannon's features, as she eyed the imp without reply.

She apparently had nothing to add to Winn's recollection that he had his own agenda to be getting on with, but stepped up next to him as she waited with an expression of absent congeniality, with both hands in front of her, clutching the handle of her satchel.

Cross, who had taken up perch on a section of roof eye-level to the large white mammoth, hopped to its edge, cawing imploringly at the demon girl's guardian, while the cant of its head alternated between sides.

"Well, why didn't mention that before!" said the pilot with prominent considerateness. "I'll gladly offer my assistance in exchange for the eventual repair of my aircraft. Besides, I doubt there will be much trouble in finding that airship again in the future. You saw its size."

Not even waiting for a reply, he returned his attention to the storage compartment to gather some things as if believing the deal was already decided.

“...Hey, Shoo!” said the imp, waving her arms up at the crow, “hey! Scram! Get out!”

The white mountain held up a finger. She stared up at him, agog.

He peered, almost cross-eyed, at the crow.

He sloooowwwwly extended a finger up to crow-level, offering the bird a place to land.



“Hey,” said the imp, “hey, what’re you doing, you big lump!"

"... Well."

That was all Winn could say about the matter. He looked to Rhiannon. "I guess we're three, now," he commented, then, with a second thought and a fleeting glance at the crow above, appended, "or four..."

Deep breath in. Long breath out. Shrug.

"Guess we should keep going for now," he pondered aloud, the gears turning. "Maybe we should... go try to find a map, or something."

As funny as it was, this was the first time he really considered it.

Cross hopped indecisively to the left and then to the right before looking very deliberately to the tiny, fussy imp below with bristled feathers, and alighting on the large finger offered to it, somehow looking far more self-satisfied than any non-sentient creature should.

"I think that would be prudent," concurred the witch politely, without comment on any of the other bizarre and/or notable goings-on. She teetered forward, bending slightly at the waist to glance distantly down the path; an innocuous and natural gesture for one as... special as Rhiannon, but it conveniently positioned her mouth within perfect whispering distance to Winn's ear.

"What of the other two, though?" she asked discreetly, as though she could have just been musing to herself.

Winn's lips tightened into a small, low frown. Without moving his eyes, he turned his face just a bit toward hers over his shoulder, and whispered back,

...

Well, he opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but seemed at a loss. The thought spilled out in a very quick flurry of syllables a couple seconds later, though.

"Maybeweshouldjustgo."

“That’s right—“ began the imp with some satisfaction, as the crow flew away, and then added, “hey... what’s with that look—oh."

As the small group began to leave, they might, possibly, have become aware of the quiet, felt-y pitter patter of little, tawed-booted feet after them.

As they began to walk quicker, hoping that the pitter-patter of said feet was some sort of illusion, perhaps caused by fall leaves skittering across the pavement, they might, possibly, have become aware of the first loud PFOOM of a gigantic foot, swathed in miles of boiled leather. Stitched together with sheet rope and plated with huge cast-iron fittings, the boot creaked and squeaked as the gargantuan giant wearing it began to plod along. He followed after the imp, who was trotting after the larger group with relative innocence of their attempts to escape her.

Pitter-pattering and giant-made earthquakes be damned, Rhiannon was, if nothing else, admirably committed to their little procession in ignorance, as she traipsed blithely alongside Winn without the faintest acknowledgement of their company. She observed their surroundings with a half-lidded interest, her head at a cant appropriate for musing, as her boots etched the graceful curves of a dance-like stride into the dirt, and her bag swung in a gentle orbit about her.

"Do you know what I find odd?"

... Oh, where to even begin?

Winn looked at her as he walked along, his expression either deadpan or genuinely unaffected.

"Does it... does it have anything to do with losing our memory, getting attacked by a harpy, or... being stalked by a monster-girl with a giant boyfriend?"

He blinked a few times for emphasis.

As if genuinely disarmed by the possible candidates for oddities, Rhiannon blinked back some mild surprise, as if not having even considered any of them to be particularly off (extremely likely).

"No," she replied in a tone laden with consideration. "I was more thinking about that fellow in the pajamas back there..."

"Purple snakeskin," muttered the sorceress with furrowed brows as she shook her head disapprovingly. "Mm."

Despite how his new companions (or at least that's how he viewed in his eyes) started to wander off, the pilot lingered for a moment, facing his flying machine. He gazed at it as if looking at a cherished friend, seeming quite reluctant to just letting it lie there.

In the middle of a town.

Smack dab in the center of the road.

Now quite agitated, the boy glanced hastily over to the leaving group of mismatched people beings before appearing to light up with an idea. With haste in his step, he quickly jogged forward, his boots clumping across the cobblestones as he attempted to catch up to them. Before long, he was rushing around the continent of a mass that was the demon girl's white companion, opting for a backwards walk as he faced the thing.

"Hello! Excuse me!" he said up to the creature, waving his arms above his head as if worried he couldn't gain attention. "I was wondering — since you're joining us and all — that you could maybe, just maybe, carry my craft along? I'd rather not just... leave it here. Be quite an inconvenience to this place and I!

Winn appeared deep in consideration, the corners of his mouth pulling downward, eyes peering upward.

He looked back down again.

"I thought he was kinda snazzy," he murmured. "I mean, in a... sort of... dark... anti-heroic sort of way. You know?"

"'Snazzy?'" repeated Rhiannon with a dissenting frown. In the quiet that followed, her heels clacked out a steady rhythm that seemed to time her response. Her eyes traveled off to some distant place, and slowly her head began to shake again.

"Perhaps," she concluded eventually, with an indifferent shrug. "It just seemed to disrupt the theme of his costume."

The snowy slopes of Mt. Yeti paused — the creature rolled back and forth gently as the inertia of his movement rippled through his titanic skeleton. He looked back at the flying machine, then he obligingly took hold of its chassis, hooking his fingers through its struts and components. It creaked and sheered unsteadily as he swung it gently into the air, but held together all the same.

The imp stared at the young pilot in open hostility. Her chin jutting out, her shoulders flung back, and her fists clenched, she was for the moment a tiny model of pugilistic indignation. She didn’t say anything, however, and after a few seconds, she let his trespass slide and resumed keeping pace with the other two.

She came up behind the witch.

“Hey,” she said, “hey.”

“What kind of witch spells do you do?"

Abruptly, Rhiannon stopped walking. She rounded on the Sau girl, and walked straight at her, a graveness to her countenance. The witch's eyes didn't stare so much as they burned with intent as she came upon the imp with her arm ominously outstretched, reaching.

Her hand drew level with the demon girl's jaw...

"I can do this."

And a single silver coin was produced from behind Zia's pointy ear.

"Tadaaa~! It's magic~"