The Sentinels my soul won't take

"The water. Yes, that.. Should do." A faint smile traced its way back across Eigma's face, and she slipped in to an easy - but slow - stride just behind Dante. Having not explored the territory much, it was up to him to lead her; although he wasn't so keen on it, the woman was pleased to have company. Her pace was occasionally hindered by a sharp pain to her sides, so she'd lag a few extra paces behind with a curious, watchful look towards Dante's figure. She wasn't so concerned with the pain though. The wolves here had treated her well, with great care. It was difficult to ignore the sensation, but her goal was to find herbs - not to worry anyone, and definitely not to overly exert herself - so when she wasn't watching the gray man, she was spying the various plants and sections of frosted earth, hoping to see something familiar to retrieve. It was slow going, but she would not stop until she'd found something.

Slow, and quiet. Eigma hadn't thought to speak further to Dante until they reach the river; and even then, she was busy catching her breath.