#Gale literally had an episode of overexplaining...again... but hes interested in her

[recitedemise]

'Taking their surroundings a bit too lightly' is an exceedingly docile turn of phrase. You're walking in a death-hungry chasm of exploding fungi, Vox. One huff of some spores, and a grown man may find himself felled by a fever. Hell, with their incredible fortune, they may even become the host of another mind-rending guest! Gale looks around, highly vigilant, and scours with worry.

He breathes. The coast is clear, at least, just like her palette toward survival.

She shifts, and Gale watches with unveiled fascination. Of course, she then opens her mouth. "I promise you'd little enjoy it, yes," he primly answers, the sour sport. Immune to her feminine wiles, evidently, the scholar buries his attention on the changing of her features. Her skin's a dusky lavender, a sprinkle darkened like some night-stained amethyst, and better fit to glean into the shadows of the Underdark, Gale keeps nearer, flanks her shadow, and throws her a look.

Vox is truly untamable. He wonders what's more liable to kill him: her or a straight fall from a thousand meter cliff. Raising his hand, he casts a spot of igni and allows its flame to guide them a bit farther. "I recommend against sampling whatever fungal denizens you find. There's one particular stalk that would feast on you with a great deal more zeal than you may them. They're known as zygom, the carnivorous fungi, liable to leave its unwilling hosts as mere vessels for their parasitic impulses. They're not natives of this region, admittedly, but there's a great deal we've yet to discover about the Underdark. But, ah, I'm getting ahead of myself," Gale stops, smiling despite his umpteenth ramble. "Perhaps you've heard of them before, what with your innumerable travels across the seas. With your uncanny ability to change at will, I'd wager you've walked those fields of Chult as though a resident yourself. With your daring and taste for adventure, I imagine its allure proves irresistible."

Incredible. There isn't much he knows about her, is there? Gale walks on, "I suggest we catch a breath for now. I'm afraid I haven't your stamina, and I've the impression we're straying too far from our companions."

It goes without saying that Gale will follow. Vox knew that before she even stepped away from him. And sure enough, the wizard is striding right along beside her. On he spouts about decorum. It's endearing, really. When has decorum gotten her anywhere?

"Decorum? Restraint? Do y'even know me?" The changeling nudges the wizard as they walk side-by-side; she takes another swig from her flask before offering it to him. Perhaps she's taking their surroundings a bit too lightly.

A brow quirks at his last... warning. "Ooh, d'ya promise?" Time and place, Vox. And speaking of which, the changeling ponders... perhaps her current form of a raven-haired human, though she presumes better than her natural form – is not quite the fit for the Underdark. Her eyes shift back and forth for a moment before she's once again transforming – this time, into a drow. Much more fitting, she presumes.

"And what do you suggest we do, if not raise hell? What am I even good for, then?" Yes, raising hell in her own way – is a specialty. With her lute and her knack for getting in (and out of, might she add) questionable situations – getting Vox to show some restraint is a challenge in itself.

Her attention is briefly split between poking at Gale – and their surroundings. They're... quite beautiful, really, dare she think. It's far from the beauty of the shimmering night sky from sea, but still, the mushrooms are stunning in their own right. "I wonder how they taste," she thinks aloud, her fingers rapping on leather as she walks with her arms crossed over her chest.