This, I will do. [Illarion turns in--roughly--the direction indicated, then crosses to the door with an odd gingerness. He puts out a hand to feel for the handle, finds it, and eases the door open as quietly as can be managed.
He shuts it as solicitously behind him, rather than let it slam.
Once outside, he unslings the pack he's carrying from his back and removes--a Lamp Friend, placing it on his shoulder before digging out a small tripod and an incense bowl. It takes a moment of hunting to find the right place--a back corner--and fill the latter with incense, but within short order he has it smoldering away and perfuming the air of the backyard.
Having suitably warded the place, he gently pries the Lamp Friend from around his neck, tucks it back in the bag, shoulders it, and settles into a corpse-still parade rest to await Nehan. The whole process takes three minutes, at most.]
no subject
He shuts it as solicitously behind him, rather than let it slam.
Once outside, he unslings the pack he's carrying from his back and removes--a Lamp Friend, placing it on his shoulder before digging out a small tripod and an incense bowl. It takes a moment of hunting to find the right place--a back corner--and fill the latter with incense, but within short order he has it smoldering away and perfuming the air of the backyard.
Having suitably warded the place, he gently pries the Lamp Friend from around his neck, tucks it back in the bag, shoulders it, and settles into a corpse-still parade rest to await Nehan. The whole process takes three minutes, at most.]