But a glimpse at the window revealed that it was still sealed shut, which Pari knew they couldn't have done from the outside. "I don't think so. I don't know. We can't really help them now..." she closed her eyes, dread taking the place of the warmth from before. "Shit."

Meanwhile, Roo and Giovanni were plodding through the blankets of snow, squinting through the steady swirl of winter and making their way as quickly as they could. Roo had stumbled through the cottage that she and Gio had taken refuge in during the storm, a small placed owned by Behzefur, the local apothecarist. "They're in trouble," she'd panted, and then they'd been off.
She pressed against his back now, more for security than for the cold, because he was also cold, but also because she could since they were riding. It wasn't out of the question that she might feel unsteady on the back of an Altirian goat. "I hope they're okay."

Giovanni worried more for Roo than for himself-- the blizzard was frigid, sure, but he had a tolerance for much lower temperatures than the warm-blooded creature wrapped around his waist right now. He didn't have high hopes for the foreigners, seeing as they'd been dim enough to let not one but several demons into their home in the couple of hours since they'd left them. But Roo insisted on coming to their rescue, so he'd come of course, even if only to help clean away the bloody mess that remained. In response to her words he only nodded with a small sound of affirmation.

"I'm sorry for dragging you out here in... all of this." she said. "And... that you have to do this in general. I imagine it's not fun being part of Altair's demon clean up crew. And it's not really fun being in Altair in general. Especially for you, you've been working since you decided to stay. I'm not sure why you did that -- though, that's not to say that I don't appreciate your staying. Well, I mean, not just me, personally, but everyone here is lucky to have you. Because you're very good at what you do, even if it's a bit... bloody. But I guess that's what you have to be when you're in Altair," she finished sadly, and, seeming to have realized that she'd started rambling and her teeth were chattering, finished off her monologue with, "Anyways, I'm glad you're here, even if I wish you didn't have to be, not because I don't like that you're around but because being here isn't exactly anyone's idea of a good vacation."

Her rambling always amused him-- Venenzio and the others tended to keep the chatter to a minimum, so having a companion that was so vocal with what was on her mind was refreshing. This was their balance, with her contributions outweighing his most of the time, though sometimes he did it on purpose just to see what he could get her to admit in a bid to fill the silence.
"I've told you before, I'm happy to be here."

"I know." she said quietly. She still didn't understand why, but that was a conversation for another time.
The Woods Manor stood silently amidst the drifting snow, casting its long shadow upon the untouched white around them. Giovanni descended first and she hopped off the goat with his help - it was a ways off the ground and while the animal could be brought to kneel, it likely wouldn't get up again once it had sank into the earth. "I have the key," she rifled around the pockets in her skirt and then pulled it out victoriously before bustling towards the front door. "Be ready for anything."

"I hope you are." He replied, taking his spot beside her at the door with the intention of blocking any harm that might burst forth once it opened.

She gave him a half-hearted shrug (after all, was anyone really ready for a demon?) and pushed the door open with her shoulder. Almost immediately, they were met with a low, keening wail that rose sharply in pitch as light cascaded into the house. Roo cringed, stepping aside to allow Giovanni the full length of the doorway.
The demon stood on the stairway, seeming to have just made its way to the top. It turned around at the interference and from its breast glistened a blade, now caked in tar-like viscera, which also probably accounted for its loudly-proclaimed rage. It bristled at Giovanni's presence, as demons were wont to do, and stalked down the stairs in a mockery of a normal, human gait.

"Get them out of here," Giovanni said to Roo easily before stepping into the house. His gaze made quick work of the situation, stride unfaltering even as the demon tried its usual ominous song and dance. He noted 1) that they had kindly left him a weapon lodged inside the thing, and 2) that they had somehow done a surprising number on the thing despite being effectively clueless. Without much more thought, his hand shot out and took hold of the knife, wrenching it inside its chest cavity. The ensuing spray of tar smattered the front of his shirt, though it hardly seemed to bother him as he landed a well-placed kick to the beast's knee, sending it tumbling with a sickening crunch in addition to its ear-grating cacophony of rage.

Roo stifled the urge to shake her head in disbelief. Though she'd been witness to his violence time and time again, it never failed to unnerve her. She was just glad she was on the safe side of this well of seemingly endless and unwavering brutality.
As Giovanni swung the demon around, smashing its head against the wall opposite to the bannister, Roo scurried up the now-clear stairs and made her way down the hall, accompanied by the sounds of otherworldly shrieking and indiscriminate walloping below. The princess's room was denoted by an entire series of protection sigils that had been carved along the grain of the wood, too subtle for most to notice. She rapped her hand against it and called, "Feofil, Princess Tyrneamitore?"

Pari had wadded up one of her silk scarves and was helping Feo hold it to his bleeding nose when a voice echoed from beyond the door. She turned to look at it, then back to Feofil, raising her eyebrows.

His lips held firmly together, suddenly facing with mounting uncertainty at their rescue. Roo had assured him they'd know it was them because they would let themselves in-- but if the creature already inside decided to play mind games? If the phone call itself had been a trick? His fingers wrapped themselves around Pari's slender wrist, communicating for her to follow his lead and still.