Kilbell appeared rather busy for a lazy weekday, much to Darragh's relief. Whatever chase the Magesterium was giving, it would likely be hindered by any large group of tourists and mercantile class, allowing the two to enter the town unnoticed. Without incident, they slid into a caravan of bodies that were filing into one of the town's two gates, stepping carefully onto the drawbridge which spanned across the river that ultimately stretched across the whole of the Kingdom, one of the features making Kilbell somewhat significant a locale. Darragh kept his eyes open for those crimson robes, though he found nothing even resembling them, allowing him a gentle sigh of relief even as Colette rustled impatiently at his side, the prospect of remaining silent amidst the crowd of people wearing on her nerves - Darragh chatting to himself while strolling the streets of Kilbell wasn't much out of the ordinary, but creeping along slowly amidst a mass of people, any number of those around him - particularly the grimy man at his side who hadn't bathed in some time and who seemed itching to make conversation with somebody - could raise the alarm of intrigue when Darragh was aiming for conformity more than anything.

Slowly, after an hour of halting steps, the two made it into the main street of the town. Darragh reached down to pat the side of the sack, signaling to Colette their arrive as they did so, "Alright, you can yap."

"Good gods, that was foul!" she shouted in grotesque complaint.

He nodded, "Yeah, I wasn't much of a fan, either. I think there were some Temple Jorun in there - non-bathing cultish folk."

"Gods, you should have smelled it from down here," Colette spat out in disgust," the sack shaking violently as she twisted her head from side to side, "I'm just happy to be out of that mess."

Darragh nodded, "Agreed. Let's just see about stationary, food- perhaps we ought to find an inn, first; with this influx of travelers, I'd hate to be last to the seedy parts of town." He turned a grin down toward Colette despite her being concealed. "I suppose you might be a bit too cultured; the parts of town where you might not be the only wyrm we'd run into."

"No, I got it," she groaned, "Just- Find a place and let's just settle down for the day. I'm hungry."

"Well, we'll need to be frugal," sighed Darragh, frowned as he stuffed a hand into his pocket, "I don't recall ever seeing a wallet or pockets on your person, and I don't have too much coin on me."

Colette huffed a sigh, "Well, we can always get down to the seedy parts of town. I'm not the only wyrm in this party, after all."

"Tempted as that may be-" Darragh rolled his eyes, "Business is booming, so we ought to be able to stretch this farther than normal. I saw we get an inn first, try to get room and meal, all in one, try to work out a deal, and then figure out stationary."

"No," Colette challenged, "Stationary takes priority. Rowan has to be worried sick, and I've already disappointed her."

Darragh stared toward the wyrm-y shape at his side, "I'm sorry, whose coin are we spending? I didn't know this was a collection?"

"I'll reimburse you, obviously. I'm no crowl," seethed the wyrm, "When we return to Aubernpine at the end of all this, I'll-"

"There's no returning!"

"There is for me! Once I'm a human again, there's no Magesterium looking for me, and you'll be in Fardenn with a peachy little job; I'll send you coin or figure something else out," Colette sighed the kind of groan as somebody who thought she were doing all the thinking for the both of them, "I swear, if I weren't here-"

Darragh interrupted, "So we purchase stationary and then have nothing for lodging. or nothing for food and we starve all day and travel tonight with empty stomachs. Does that sound like fun to you?"

"No, but-"

Without much further discussion, Darragh sighed, "We'll try that inn, first. Inn, food, stationary; in that order. Okay?"

Without seeing her face, he could tell Colette was seething angry, her tone of voice matching what he perceived was her expression, "Why are you bothering to ask?"

"True," he sighed, stepping up the stairs which led into the nearby inn, the choking, smoky air permeating the atmosphere as soon as he entered, forcing him to cover his face with his hand, "Fuck!"

"Hey!" cried a man near the bar, "Language!"

Darragh's eyes wandered toward the voice, noticing a finger tapping atop a bowl of coins which read 'Ye Olde Curse Jar', his expression souring at the realization. He felt Colette snap her tail against his side, as though to excoriate him for threatening what precious little coin they had.

He bowed his head in reverence before turning back to find the innkeeper, battling the hazy room, crouching low to even see where he was heading. Slowly stepping along, he found the massive desk that he assumed to belong to the owner of the establishment, peering up through the craggy air and finding nobody behind the gigantic desk. Eyes wincing to focus through the smoky steam, Darragh cleared his throat to catch the attention of whomever might be there, in an instant compelling the massive body of an ogre to emerge from the smog, smoke bellowing in myriad vapors as the green body swayed low toward him.

"Yesss?"

Darragh leaned back, instinctively, raising a single finger, "May I inquire about a room, please? for one?"

"Hmmmm...." the ogre pondered for a moment, slowly sauntering from side to side as if ruminating before slowly reaching for a ledger book, "I do believe we are full up, buuuuut..." They slowly scanned the first few pages of the book, meticulously -or lazily - examining each entry before nodding. "If you don't mind laundering coming later, we dooooo have an empty room that has not been readied yet."

Darragh nodded, leaning against the large desk, fit for only an ogre's size, "Say we laundered it ourselves, saved you the trouble. Could you knock off some coin for the night?"

"Hmmm, a negotiator," the innkeeper muttered, inquisitively, "Makes no difference to meeee. Though it would save me some bellyaching employees, I suppose.... Huh. Whatever. I'll knock off some coin, sure. How's five gold sound?"

Darragh's head fell back over his shoulder, awash with relief, "You are a godsend, my dear innkeeper." Gleefully stuffing his hand into his pocket, Darragh's eyes cast over the desk toward his trousers, passing a stack of papers and a quill and inkwell, all properly assembled and sat away, readied for storage. His lips furrowed weakly, shoulders slumping as he retrieved a few extra coin in his fingers before returning to the ogre.

"How much for some of that parchment and writing accoutrement?"

"Quit hitting me!" came a grumpy curse from Darragh's side as he climbed up the stairwell of the inn, trying his best to ascend carefully alongside the wyrm-filled satchel there, but her weight continued to sway into the path of his knee, forcing him to swipe her in inadvertent attempts at purchase while trying to remain balanced.

He grit his teeth, his tone seething as he kept low, "I'm trying! but please, let out some more of that hot air - maybe that'll lighten the load a bit."

"I don't like what you're insinuating, Mr. Wynd. If you focused more on your walking and less on your insulting me, this would be a far more pleasant experience for us both."

Tilting his head, Darragh ran his lips thin with a sardonic raise of his brow, "I don't know, I'm terrified what gruel we have be having for our meal."

"I never said to purchase the most expensive stationary in Kilbell!" Colette scoffed, rolling her eyes as she rolled around in the sack with irritation, "Honestly, you can be such a dolt sometimes."

Darragh sighed, "You know, you can just say the words 'thank you'. It's not as if you'll melt in a puddle of fire or anything."

Tensing at the suggestion, more so at how poignant it was than inaccurate, Colette frowned, hoping to fill the air immediately rather than allow the silence to let on that he had, indeed hit a nerve. Instead, she realized she had little choice than to lean into the curve, twisting his face in dissatisfaction.

"You never know."

"Gods, you're dense," he noted with a critical air. Though the air hung thick between them, he began to chuckle lightly, earning him an unseen look of inquisitive disdain from within his satchel. "It literally won't. Trust me, I've done it and come out unscathed. Although, you're not entirely wrong; I was scarred by the experience- grief-stricken and an altogether muddied affair. I feared I might never recover."

Colette sighed heavy, though Darragh continued, exhibiting even heighted dramatics as he progressed, "Oh, gods! The entire town had to band together to ensure I didn't find myself lost to the throes of misery and sadness in the face of abject thankfulness!"

"Are you done?"

"For now," he grinned, examining the key in his hand as the two found the landing. Darragh leaned forward, eying each door until finding 303, trudging over carefully. "Looks like we're here. I'd brace myself if I were you."

Colette scowled, "With what exactly?"

"I dunno," was the answer as Darragh shrugged, inserting the key, "but with Kilbell as busy as it is, who knows who all's been roaming through this town and- Oh, fuck every Hell!"

He recoiled in an instant, stepping away from the open door as he shielded his face with the entire width of his arm, Colette ringing out in alarm, "What?! What is it?!"

"I-! Hell's bloodied guard, I think a glimmer of fae must have been the previous occupants," Darragh's eyes narrowed, bowing his body forward to glance beyond the door frame and up toward the ceiling, "Yeah. Definitely a glimmer of 'em."

Colette rustled at his side, "Oh, don't be so dramatic, you child. You said you'd knock it off."

"I said 'for now', but that's not even the point," Darragh crept past the entrance to the room, peeking further inside past the door, "I believe we may have made a grave error."

"Just- It can't possibly be that bad! Let me out of here!"

Darragh shirked the suggestion in an instant, "Trust me, you don't-"

"What, because I'm a woman, I'm to be protected at all costs from-"

"Wyrman?"

Colette's voice deepened, which Darragh had long deduced was her 'serious tone', "Let. me. out."

A groan from the man as he tugged at the top of the satchel, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

As quick as she could, Colette's head poked out, "Alright! Now I can be the adult here and judge-" Her face immediately grew into an intensely screwed expression of disgust. "What the-"

"Told you," Darragh nodded, pointing toward the window, "I think one of them molted a wing over there."

"-and did some unspeaking things to the aftermath over there," Colette observed, breathing a heavy breath while shaking her head, "Well, I suppose we've made the bed we're to sleep in."

Darragh twisted his head down toward her, "You aren't seriously suggesting-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wynd; weren't you the one pinching your pennies ever so stringently a moment ago? Do you suggest we forego even our gruel for better accommodations?"

His face narrowed, "I was actually thinking we return the stationary and go from there..."

"Well, it's quite too late for that."

Wincing, he sighed, "Your varying logic is breathtaking."

"Well, let's just- watch where we step and make do with what we have for the time being. You'll be leaving soon to procure us food, anyway, you won't have to worry your pretty little head about the state of the accommodations, anyway," Colette charged, wagging her head contentedly as Darragh carefully stepped into the room, making sure to avoid the puddle of bodily fae liquid nearby.

"What'll you do in the meantime?" he wondered, "With your clumsy movements, I fear I may hear some cries from across the town entirely were you to end up in the pile of- what, musk marking?”

"I will be here," declared Colette defiantly, gesturing with a forceful jerk of her head to denote where she preferred for Darragh to leave her, "Thinking of how to address my friend, of course. So, you ought to prepare to write."

"Oh, I will," he assured with an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms now that he was free of the weight atop his shoulder, examining the room, "If I find a meal at a bargain, I'll see if I can't find some, I don't know, incense or something. What all can you eat?"

Colette scowled, "How am I supposed to know?!"

"Well, a violent florist in a wyrm's body; meat sounds like a decent guess. Of course that's the expensive stuff," he stood there, thinking, mulling over his options while stroking his chin, "I'll figure something out." A smarmy sort of grin. "I always do."

He turned to leave, all while Colette watched him, the look on her face spinning mournful at his consideration. Gradually enough, she balked at the decision to stop him but suddenly stopped herself, sighing lightly. "Mr. Wynd, stop."

As instructed, he paused, eying her from the door, "Yes?"

"Get what you can. If I can't it eat, it won't be due to a lack of trying. I'm sure wyrms have a varied diet in some respect."

Darragh's brow tensed as he failed to check his smirk, "Is that how you show appreciation and say 'thank you'?"

"I could eat you, instead."

He allowed a chuckle, dropping his head as he recalled, nearly fondly, "Last night, you were so sure it was the opposite. That it was I with every intention of skewering and eating you."

"Well, fae orgies changes people; what else can I say," was her groaning rationale.

Darragh grinned, "Give me a bit; I'll be back for your letter."

With that, he shut the door behind him, leaving Colette with naught but the clicking of the lock. She snorted a gentle breath as she examined the room around her, all of which appeared far more detestable from the vantage point of a wyrm just a foot or so off the floor. Even without limbs, she figured she ought to contribute something, setting out to move where she could, shoving stuff out fo the way, moving away debris, all where she could avoid the various, and diverse, collections of fluids and left-behinds of fae and fairy alike, it turned out, the more she rummaged. She eventually did quite a substantial bit given her deficiencies, at the very least accruing a pile that Darragh could easily pick up and toss aside once he returned - that had been her best-laid plan after working for nearly an hour; she would begin and complete a series of tasks up until the point where she could no longer continue, and then Darragh would return and complete them from there, ultimately resulting in a much more comfortable situation for the both of them for the next few hours until they left upon the conclusion of twilight.