Tam's nostrils flared at the smell of smoke, but he didn't say anything. He kept his face turned towards the street, even if his eyes flickered back to Cicero now and then. When he was in the same room as her, he always seemed extra sensitive of his surroundings, always aware of exactly where she was, and what she was doing. And indeed, there was eggs. He could smell that too, blended with the smoke. But with her stretching like that, a different sort of hunger growled in his body. Mutely he shook his head, and turned his eyes to the view of the street again. It was safer, he thought, hunching his shoulder up and leaning against the wall. His broad frame was hindering the meagre daylight that tried to find it's way into the room, but he didn't care. Looking down, he saw a street urchin, hardly bigger than his youngest, wandering slowly down the street, looking around timidly. The fire in his stomach turned slowly to ice, while he tried to tell himself that it was just a dirty little elf. His left hand slowly formed a fist, until his knuckles were white. He told himself it was nothing to care about, but still, he didn't relax until the child was out of sight. When Cicero spoke, he turned towards her, looking her up and down appraisingly. "We wait. The merchants ought to arrive sometime today. When they do, we make contact," he recited, repeating the instructions he himself had received. "You better get your armour on." Having said this, he turned back to the window, pleased with himself to have treated her in such a curt manner, when his thoughts about her were the opposite.