Mint green hair laid over the black and white jacket that the town’s death mage doctor wore, a sigh covering the lips of the young woman as she looked for a certain fae. Looking around rather half frantically for Harp, hazel and purple eyes seemed more… eager than panicked, though with her arms crossed over her chest, she still seemed rather nervous. In her mind, she trusted Harp with this problem more than any of the other ritualistic users in the town, and more so than the Healer’s Guild as Jenelle had come from there. And because of her and her original interaction with Kestrel had left a rather bad taste in her mouth, not saying that there wasn’t good people there. Just… she felt like she was being ridiculed the first and last time she went there and refused to put herself in that again.
“Harp? Harp!” She called out, trying to find the fae that had once been her mentor, as she sighed and looked around more and more uneasy. Truth be told, she doubted there was a cure for her, but… she had to try to look, now didn’t she?
Looking around a little more, she was about to give up for the moment when she saw Harp walking out of the tavern. Clapping her hands together, she smiled brightly. “Ah! My fae-vorite elf! Harp! Do you think I could borrow you when you have time, oh mentor of mine?” She said, jogging up to him.