Ezra's eyes bounced between Atzar and Murov, and although they wished to chime in and stop the arguing, they knew deep down it would be pointless. Atzar had shown to be hot-headed at times, and the mage hunter wasn't exactly keen on keeping his calm despite being an apparent hostage. But the information the rebellious mage had given the homunculus was quite useful in regards to their problem with their lack of control. The man had mentioned confining the energy to a smaller space, but how were they supposed to do that when they couldn't conjure the energy in the first place? The ward had been a mere copy; nothing more than a subconscious reflex thanks to Ezoreth's gift. But, for now, they had no choice but to try and figure out how to bring the energy forth in the first place.
"...Thank you for your words of wisdom, Atzar. I shall attempt to take your advice in consideration when I may practice more freely." The last words were almost spat out in a tone almost identical to Atzar's tone upon their meeting, and the purple-eyed mage stared a hole into the back of Murov's head as if to imagine it fading away. The mage hunter glared back, and Ezra couldn't help but stare back at the man. He was a rather plain specimen of human, that much was certain. But they couldn't understand why this man despised magic so much even though he wielded it himself? Was it simply his zealotry that had blinded him to his own hypocrisy? Or was his magic truly based in faith of his gods, and without that faith, he would be unable to tap into magic directly? The power of the soul was truly mysterious, and the homunculus could only remain quiet in thought as they continued their journey to where the supposed witch resided.
After another ten minutes of walking, Murov stopped the two as the group moved into a small clearing. A somewhat large log cabin stood out against the pale snow, white smoke billowing from the stone chimney into the cold air.
"This is the place. She'll be inside." Murov spat, looking down at the white snow beneath him. Ezra could only watch as the man fell onto his knees, a combination of exhaustion and apparent sorrow for the 'betrayal' the man would have committed. The homunculus stared at the mage hunter, head tilted to the side as if confused by the man's emotional breakdown. They couldn't understand why he was so worried; this would be a win-win for him. Either his friend's wife is proven innocent of her supposed witchcraft, or they would help bring her to justice.
Glancing at Atzar, the homunculus shrugged their shoulder and the black bear head on their right shoulder seemed to tilt its head as well in confusion. "Well, Atzar? This is the place. Should we go in and find this possible spellcaster?"
