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    To be honest, Citron was pleased by the response of both the other Isaurian and her wyvern both. It seemed to her, that he was at least acquainted with wyverns, or had more sense than many others she had encountered, because she watched him take a few careful steps away as Peaches growled and showed threat-response after threat-response, the entire time being careful not to make any sudden movements that might anger the wyvern further. It was this elation that showed on her face as the growls came to an end, though the wyvern still kept her eyes trained straight on the Isaurian man's movements. Through the combined effort of all of these factors the wyvern seemed ultimately to calm down, even if only slightly so, letting Citron shift from a full embrace of the wyvern to a gentle hold with her left hand. She was still careful to keep herself between Peaches and him, given that would keep the wyvern from lunging, but this was at least a good start. As this happened, the man’s response to her comment seemed, at least to her, to confirm that he had dealt with wyverns before, while also prompting her to shake her head a bit. “I still feel the need to apologize, she’s supposed to be better trained than that. She’s just been on edge due to the day we’ve had,” she explained, giving a quick shrug. Now was, about when she would have introduced herself under any normal circumstances; it was always best to know the names of those you were with, she felt, but now was anything but a normal circumstance. Instead, she found her attention directed by Alois first, who said that ‘strawberry’ could come along, clearly directing the address towards Peaches. “It’s… Peaches,” she murmured, shaking her head as she began to follow along. Clearly, introductions would come later, as for now they had a clear destination and goal: arrive at the ‘lovely’ manor, and look for anything strange. Along the way, Citron led Peaches somewhat carefully, doing her best to lead the wyvern far enough ahead of the Isaurian man that the wyvern had little option but to take her eyes off him, though the wyvern loathed to admit it, but it wasn’t long until they arrived at the garish house. Ciela sat outside and, without waiting, Alois kicked the already-open door open, inviting himself in. “That seems… Maybe a little excessive,” Citron kept a quiet chuckle to herself as the others followed, only pausing as she reached the door to turn around, finally letting go of Peaches. “Now,” Citron paused, tapping the wyvern on her nose. “The rest of us, we’re going to go into this house to investigate something, but I need you to do something, and it’s really, really important that you do this, alright?” Citron asked, staring into the wyvern’s eyes, before a quiet, low scree escaped the wyvern’s throat. “I need you to stay out here, watching and listening for if anyone that isn’t part of our group tries to leave, and if they do, to scream and try to stop them. Alright? Do you think you can do that?” she asked, leaning her head forwards. As if in response, the wyvern seemed to nod ever so slightly, letting out another quiet screech, and then leaning their own head forwards. The wyvern brushed her nose against Citron’s face in a nuzzle, as if in acknowledgement, pushing the rider’s head back a bit in the process, but was overall very gentle with the rider. Moreover, as she pulled away from it,, the wyvern took a few careful steps as she peeled away from the doorway, taking a spot behind Ciela and co. as she looked to keep a watchful gaze over the Manor; as if, in some respect, she had understood the command she was given. “...Alright, with that taken care of,” Citron smiled, turning back around to fully enter the manor’s door, following after the others who had already set about examining the area. “We’re looking for the owner of this... 'House', and Lady Catriona, right?” Citron asked, carefully holding her free hand against her shoulder as walked into what had to be the gaudiest room she had ever seen, careful not to touch any of the belongings in the room. The mayor’s house was a lot, one of clearly a wealthy man-- But this was… Excess. This was excessive, that was the only, true words for it. Even Penelope had commented on it, bringing to attention the fact that he was he was potentially a hunter, or at least fancied himself one; ending with a question of where to go. “Not sure if you were asking me, but I would suggest up the stairs, maybe,” was Citron’s contribution, stepping through the uncomfortable excess that was the parlor as she made her way towards the stairs. “This is the house of the guy who wants to act like he’s a noble, right? So it makes sense that his primary abode and living quarters would be up the stairs, so that he can look down upon the town and everyone who might pass by… Right?” She’d reason, pausing as she waited for the others. Given the gaudiness of the house itself and room, she didn’t quite find herself afraid of the owner; he seemed the sort of person with more bark than bite when Lincoln’s wolf-cub attacked him earlier in the day, but… Still, she got the feeling it would be best if she waited for the others, before ascending further.
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