Do I know you?

The confused, no? was enough for his heart to drop, if only for a moment. The world was moving far too slowly and his thoughts too quick; jumbled and scrambling over each other, only to be shown with the way his brow worried in confusion. Medea was still close. Close enough. And the stars on her shoulder he had only ever seen once before-

“My mistake,” He managed to say, forcing his tone to remain even, his grip on the edge of the door having already turned his knuckles white. Well, he mused, as he glanced away from them and pried his grip away from the splintered wood, it was a good thing he was pale as a ghost anyways.

His gaze traveled to the younger of the pair as she offered her name as well, brow raising as he leaned his shoulder against the door and merely blinked, unphased at the mention of screaming. His gaze traveled over his shoulder, first to the man laying in the middle of the road and then to the ones he had felled just around the corner. There was a brief scoff, amused, offered when he turned his attention back to the pair.

“I do believe that would be the least of my worries,” He started with a duck of his head, but he conceded with a breath, “but I suppose we won’t test that.”

His hands patted his pockets as he considered a knife, pausing only momentarily on the pack of cigarettes that suddenly weighed far heavier at the seams than he remembered (gods knew he could use one right about now), but moved to his belt with an exasperated sigh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had carried a weapon, his magic always being more than enough.

Without a word, or even a glance back at the pair,, he pushed away from the wagon, moving to the man that still laid sprawled in the middle of the road. He kicked his crossbow a little further, listening to it clatter across the road and fall short at the base of a bush, before kneeling down at his side. He brushed away the stained edge of his cloak, finding a knife strapped to his leg and another, smaller one, on his belt. He plucked at the small one first, tucking it into his boot, before taking the larger one and flipping it in his hand. Good enough.

He rose a bit slower, a bit stiffer, pushing past the protest from his joints as he returned to the wagon and motioned for them to come closer (like hell he was going to climb in there). The knife was sharp, making quick work of the ropes. Kerelas swept away the ropes as they fell before turning the blade in his hand, holding the handle towards Medea with an expectant quirk of his brow.

“Take the crossbow too, if you can. I’m sure the other two have some weapons as well. Best they be in your hands and not theirs.” He stepped away, his hands finding his pockets as he leaned up against the door of the wagon again and sighed. Giving in, he plucked a cigarette from his pocket and hung it from his lips.

“And my name is Kerelas,” He offered. Might as well now that he knew both of theirs. He struck a match against the wood just to his side, stoking the warmth until smoke swirled in his breath. “I can get you as far as the main road.” He offered then, balancing the cigarette between his fingers before taping away ash, letting it simmer as he looked back to the pair. “Where are you headed?" And then he paused, his gaze finding that same tear again, the stars in her skin twinkling back at him through the fabric.

"Uh, here-" He moved away from his spot against the door, fumbling to pull his coat from his shoulders before offering it, too. "Best keep that hidden around here as well."