Normally, Ellis lays out his mending across Wysteria's kitchen table, well away from open flame or acid-based chemicals, but close enough to participate in the rise and fall of conversation between Wysteria and Tony and sometimes Fitz. It had become a comfortable routine.

But the dream rattled something loose, enough so that Ellis has instead taken up space close to the fire with a small pile of items set on a stool to be repaired. Noose has made an appearance, claimed Ellis' booted foot as resting place for a lazy nap. Intermittent twitches and small yips punctuate the work.

He'd been whistling softly, but the song tapers to a halt at the approach of a third party. There's a beat of quiet, Ellis' eyebrows raising in silent question. There is a second chair, but surely Noose is the bigger draw between them.

"Aye?" comes slowly, prompting, as Noose slits open one eye to assess the newcomer before yawning almost comedically loudly in punctuation.

In his experience, Tantervale is almost always muddier than it should be. The passing snowfall has turned the roads to chilly slush, and the spatter of it has streaked horse and rider thoroughly long before they've made their way to the spot marked on the map and discovered the ruins in question are set further beyond the scrubby, barren spate of trees. One crumbling tower is visible from the road, the only sufficient marker guiding them forward.

So far, no one has been obliged to dismount. And once off the road, the chance of mud splatter is greatly reduced. Small blessings.

"Are we certain there's anything of value to be found?" Ellis questions mildly. It's a little late to abandon the venture, regardless of mud, snow drifts and dubiously accurate maps. But exactly what they're recovering could stand to be clearer. "Long lost valuables from the Viscount Aravind's forefather's collections" isn't as helpful as Viscount Aravind might have considered when lodging his request with Riftwatch.

( do literally whatever you want, i'm not the boss of you. )