Larksong Grotto Send in the Clowns

The words that came out of his mouth next perplexed them. They were strange and cryptic. Masquerade made no attempt to hide their confusion; it was written all over their ruddy face. Their lips parted to ask what he meant, though he was already stepping away.

Ancelin? they said as he turned, voice raising as their head reared back in complete confusion.

They gathered their wits, coaxing their muscles into action. Masquerade hastily moved to flank him. Some instinct told them to keep their distance even as they tried to catch his eye from two yards away. There was something wild on his face.

What do you mean, ‘before all this goes down’?