It still stung a bit, like an old wound on a rainy day, but he was getting used to it. He was used to carrying burdens, what was one more?

"Neither would my escort," he murmured back, as if the conversation was nothing was casual. Friends, on a stroll. "She's sold it to some leather-makers--"

Frowning at the tree ahead of them, Maxwell glanced back, checking his path. Yes, they were going in the right direction-- turning back, he caught at Dorian's elbow quickly as he started to move closer to the tree.

"It didn't look like before."

And that immediately made him uncomfortable.

"Be careful."