He'd found a river at the base of a volcano, where jagged rocks rose on either side, and at various points, where the earth was thin, steam rose in soft, slow moving plumes. He was utterly captivated, a vast statue in threadbare clothes who stood, gazing unblinkingly at the spot where the steam began its long journey; too uncomfortably still to be anything other than inhuman.

He was quite the unusual figure even without his current behavior, large in both height and build, with a long beard and long hair, both of which hung just below his shoulders. And covering him from head to toe was a dusting of dirt, clinging especially to his clothes and hair.

Beck tryin to sneak a peak at the vampire son next time Gabrielle visits him because she's too embarrassed to ask about vampire babies.

It wasn't too often that an actual witch came through her door, but Lilia could usually read the energy instantly, how different it was to the typical mortal clientele that hurried, giggling and whispering, through her door. A fellow witch meant a reading of worth, one where Lilia could use her gifts and skills for their intended purpose, but it also usually meant she wasn't going to be paid as well.

Except maybe not with this one. Lilia could See a lot of things littered throughout the girl's past, strings still tugging on her emotions and well-being, scars that weren't going away any time soon, but she also saw money. Somewhere.

"The crystal is mostly for show," Lilia admitted, dismissing the request with a wave of a multi-ringed hand. "People don't like when a fortune teller just 'sees', so I use props." And a little performative showmanship.

"Now," she continued, offering the smile of someone who half knew the answer to the question already. "What do you want me to See?"

"Well I find the best way to solve most, if not all, problems is to fight fire with hellfire."

"Snails," Dana repeated, a quiet confusion, and disbelief, in her expression as she looked at her daughter. "Well," she began to answer carefully, "as a general rule that would be none. Snails don't belong indoors, they live outdoors. Usually in gardens." Scully paused as something occurred to her. "Beck, do you have snails in your room?"

The rest of his advisers had gone hours ago, trickling out of his tent one by one. It was rare that Robb was alone--if he was not surrounded by his bannermen, each vying for a moment of his attention, suggesting battle plans and strategies--he was with Theon or his mother, listening to their concerns too. Robb had promised that when he became Lord, he would take all council into consideration and weigh all voices equally, but what no one in his camp had expected was just how much time he would spend alone with the girl who had once been a fox.

Though her leg had healed long ago, Beck had not gone. What was more, she had remained human more often than not, and suddenly, Robb found himself meeting with her each day, valuing her council as much as the rest. It had been strategic at first, seeking out her advice on how best to tend and harvest the land so his camp could stay strong and his men well-fed without leaving devastation behind. Then he had wished to speak to her about magic and her perspective on the Riverlands. Once he had been declared King in the North and the Trident, this had become of the upmost importance. He knew the North well, but how could he rule the Riverlands without guidance? That his mother had lived here her whole life seemed not to have occurred to him as he regularly sought out Beck's advice instead.