"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Oh, it ain't me," Thuki answers. "Though I do know t'e lass."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Soul managed to keep quiet the entirety of the conversation, though he wasn't quite sure how. It was understandable that they would run into people who oddly seemed okay with the idea of thievery - they had met people like that many times before. But it always left an uncomfortable feeling where his stomach should have been if he was human, and he always had a very difficult time trying to get rid of the feeling.
It didn't help that they were trying to get the thief to prove his abilities.
Soul gave a quiet sigh, resting his elbow on the table and using his hand to prop up his head as he tried his best to ignore the situation at hand. It was difficult when they were talking right beside him. He glanced at Zogin, who was still fast asleep. It wasn't like they could even leave - Zogin was far too comfortable and she needed the rest.
Realizing that he was stuck listening to the conversation, Soul decided to try his best to understand why someone could be okay with stealing from the man they were talking about. "What's the noble like?" he asked. Maybe he was a bad person, so they thought that it was okay?
Spoiler
If Zogin was the one listening to this conversation, she'd probably ask for all the details about how he was going to go about doing the job. Soul's usually the moral compass.
"Based solely on the fact that not a single person is familiar with his leadership, I'd suppose a shoddy individual, incompetent and neglectful." Sacred smirks, gesturing a finger gun that flares up with a violet flame before immediately quelling as he gasps, realizing what had just happened.
"I wasn't aware alcoholic breath could set off fire!" he disclaims, turning his head away from the hand.
"Why do I need money to live? Can't I just, like, photosynthesize or something?"
Bo had passed out at the bar, his face resting in his arms as he leaned on it from his stool. The smell and flash of fire caused him to suddenly awaken with a start, looking around for the source.
"Okkk enoyervre si?" He mumbled incoherently, as he straightened up and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
"MFinnagain." He patted the thief on the shoulder. "Be nice to Thuki. She puts up withhh a lott."
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"Yes, like you," Thuki laughs. "Go home, Bo." She turns to Soul and Zogin. "He ain't from around here. All I know is that his village is poor 'n his mansion is great. The Hunters should be fixin' it, but they're spread too thin at the moment, 'n the Guard is being bought off, I'm thinkin'."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Anybody notice the two guys over there in the corner? What're ya names, friends?" Sacred waves tiredly, his hand flashing once more before he yanks it back.
"Why do I need money to live? Can't I just, like, photosynthesize or something?"
"Etymology, friends?" he calls over, using his mouth as a microphone before a flamethrower fires about two feet from his hand, prompting him to groan and turn to Thuki.
"Do you have anything I can wash my mouth out with?"
"Why do I need money to live? Can't I just, like, photosynthesize or something?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Go home... go home? Home... home." Bo repeats the word as if it has some underlying meaning to it, though he failed to succeed in deciphering it. So instead he turns to the group. "Eyyy, folks, you evrr 'eard of the time I saw a mountain beetle??"
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"Bo," Thuki interjects. "Go home. Back to yer house."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Soul's usually the moral compass. 
