The Alienage really wasn't too different from home, just beneath a sky.
Falina noticed the tension, it was impossible to ignore the way that eyes seemed to crash to their party when they slipped through the narrow street. People pressed and parted, and it was all she could do to keep breathing. While Cormac was there, and so was Ordhan she was so much smaller than the citizens of Denerim, and for a moment, she absolutely feared getting trampled or lost. When they reached the smaller section, she quickly let out a breath. While they were still drawing attention, eyes swiftly left their figures and returned to their tasks.
This whole thing suddenly seemed like a non-plan. They were merely walking. If this were Dust Town, they'd be ignored en masse, maybe even attacked, just to establish if they were a veritable threat or not. The thought made her fingers itch for her daggers at some of the uglier glances were cast her way. At least here there would finally be adversaries near her height, and carefully she slipped a small pod of blinding powder from the pouch on her belt, concealing the container in her palm, should the situation turn downhill quickly.
There was no stealth, and briefly Falina wondered if they hadn't already passed over the slavers after their entry. Maybe someone should hang back? Was there only the one exit?
Instead Falina stopped, waiting as the party gathered themselves by the large tree. watching as Lalin took Faer's hand, tugging him off from the group, something that wouldn't have bothered her. The two... looked at each other frequently, and she imagined that since they were both attractive, it wasn't unreasonable to assume something was growing there. It didn't bother her until she motioned for Conlan and Ordhan, breaking off for a small, hushed conversation. One hurried, but one convened off those who'd taken some leadership role in their mission, one with every warden save her.
It was hard not to take it personally. It stung.
What was she supposed to do? Wait until the leadership conference was over? She didn't even want to wait for Cormac, but when she slipped passed his side, she cast the briefest upward glance. Her voice was tight, but she managed to squeak it out. "I'm going to wait by the gates, if I see anything, I'll hurry back." It was infuriating, and frankly, she wanted a moment to collect herself beyond the crest of self pitying tears. It felt ugly, and like she might vomit. There had been no point in the last two days where she'd done anything worthy of being pulled aside?
She left the group, carefully shifting the blinding powder in her palm, ignoring the beggars and the elves that lined the streets. The air felt fresher at the gate, and Falina did what she did best; watched. This was what she did for the Carta, and soon she was memorizing faces, trying to remove those that belonged from those that didn't. Studied the frenetic life of the crowd and dissect anything that stood out. There was one, and he was heading straight into the Alienage, after having abandoned the party the night before, and he wasn't alone. "Dolain!"