Maura lifts her backpack, appreciative of its weight. It seems they did not skimp on the supplies, she thinks, impressed. Seeing Sandy go through the contents of his bag, she checks her own for a map. Finding it, she stuffs into a pouch on her belt.
Slinging the bag over her shoulder, lamp in the opposite hand, she retraces her steps to the stable. Impressed again, she finds her mule well brushed, repacked, and waiting by the gate. The stable girl looks at Maura jealously until her eyes fall upon the lamp in her hand. The girl's grey-eyed gaze shifts from jealously, to wonder, and settles on steely resolve.
With practiced ease, Maura lashes the backpack to the packsaddle, shifting a few things out and into other saddlebags to make sure everything remained balanced. Then, she unties the cloak that, until this point, had kept the wind from slipping into the various gaps in her armor like a team of assassins. Finally, after stuffing the cloak into a leather bag in the pack, Maura removes a spear from the trio tied across the saddle.
Maura takes the mule's lead from the stable girl using the hand that holds the lamp. She catches a slight flinch in the girl as the lamp accidentally brushes her hand.
"Your time will come," Maura says. She hands the girl the spear. "Here. Until then, practice with this."
With the fall sun glinting off the scales of her armor, Maura turns her back on the stable and leads her mule to the town square, lamp cradled against her side.
"I am ready to depart once we all are."