[Quentin is down by the front doors, as expected and promised. He's getting Eliot ready, strapping him back in to the travois and loading it with water and a few cans of food. Bundling him up against the cold with a blanket.
He's getting ready, struggling in to a too-large coat that he found and tying the quiver or arrows to his back when Kuai Liang comes down the stairs. Not that Quentin has any clue about who he's looking at or looking for, but he tries to remember the faces of everyone here. Just in case.
He tuts his way through the small spells needed to make this work even slightly, and busies himself packing up his bag with water, granola bars and more ribbed sheets for bandages. A bottle of vodka for wounds.]
no subject
He's getting ready, struggling in to a too-large coat that he found and tying the quiver or arrows to his back when Kuai Liang comes down the stairs. Not that Quentin has any clue about who he's looking at or looking for, but he tries to remember the faces of everyone here. Just in case.
He tuts his way through the small spells needed to make this work even slightly, and busies himself packing up his bag with water, granola bars and more ribbed sheets for bandages. A bottle of vodka for wounds.]