That might have just been an idle threat from Martel, but Korrin still bristles a little as she hears it. But he's dead and not around to glare at, so she'll focus on Araceli, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders for a moment. "I understand, kadan, and I'm glad you have that to draw upon for when you need it. Fashions change so quickly, especially the Orlesian kind. One fabric could be all the rage one day, only to be gauche the next." It's too dizzying for Korrin herself to keep track of, but she's learned from Araceli about how vital it can be in her line of work. Mistakes can be costly.

And then she cocks an eyebrow at Lux as she stares down at him. "If you think to roll in fish heads and then join us in bed, you're not doing it without the world's most thorough bath first. Understand? No complaining if that happens, it's your own damn fault." She's not allowing their sheets to be tainted with that stench, not matter how much a fox might love it. Gross, man.

"And that's all the more reason to melt them down, isn't it? Who wants to have them come to life again? No matter what shape they take, you can be sure everyone's paranoid about them now." It's too bad, if that hadn't happened just recently, Korrin would have been louder about making one of the Herald. Now it just seems wiser not to have anything, let the open area be change enough.