I approach the Vistani camp only at their invitation, fully aware of their propensity for curses at some imaginary or slight offense. I nod respectfully to Scarengi, and to each member of his family as they are introduced. When I have a moment to speak, I introduce myself to them, leaving out that I am a priestess of the Morninglord; something they would either figure out on their own or not care about.
Tales of Vistani seers were not lost on me and as Valana turns and admits to having seen us before, I hope it may help explain why we were all gathered here and have so far been unable to reach a town that looks to be only three or four miles away from us across the span of two days. As soon as she mentions another casting, I rush to one of my note books and scrabble quickly for pen and ink. I begin making my own notations on this encounter and when she begins, I write everything down word for word.
My head snaps up and looks curiously at Scarengi as he ushers his Valana into the wagon and mentions no charge for the fortune. Good! I think to myself, since none of us here asked for a fortune telling to begin with and I look to the others gauging their reactions and wondering what they'd do if Scarengi had actually tried to get some kind of payment out of them--us.
I look at Gorgamesh as if seeing for the first time that the Caliban's problems with his body may also extend to his mind. Going from frightened to defiant to hungry in the matter of seconds does not bolster my confidence in his abilities and makes me wonder at the wisdom of whoever or whatever brought us all together here.
"No, Darius," I correct politely. "A 'Lost One' has 'called' us. We know not if this person is dead or otherwise." I consider the rest of his words carefully, finding this not a ideal time or setting for his dramatic tone. "She said the dead will walk with the coming storm. They may indeed come for us, but since they won't come until this 'storm' gets here, that gives us some time to figure this all out. As for the rain turning to blood, well, you all know what a metaphor is, right?" No way these guys can seriously think the rain will turn to blood! They're able to butcher a dangerous animal in the wild without shedding a tear and get angry when I point out their reckless behavior but get spooked when a girl no older than any of us says something they don't want to hear!
I go over to the wagon where Scarengi is at (since he didn't go inside), and ask, "We would do what we can to prevent this tragedy and lay any lost souls to rest that we are able. But we are ensorcelled. I don't know if that village nearby is Marais d'Tarascon or not, but for two days we have journeyed toward it and have found ourselves making no progress. It is as close, and as far, as it has been when we first sighted it. If we are to help the people there, perhaps you can assist us in getting there? Or at least point us to the path that will get us there."