Wake up Lucifer Nation!

“Morning, dears.”

“Oh, stop being such a sour-puss, Fergus. You'll loose what little hair you have left.”

< A hum, picking up one of the glasses and holding it between her hands. Leaning back a touch, that small but ever-present smile still on her face. > < Even amist the tension. > “Aye, I suppose we are.”

< Things are moving, alright ... she's felt a shift. She's aware, that she's being hunted - as are the others. Having eyes and ears everywhere is what's kept her out of harms way for so long, after all. > < She had work to do .. >