Copper waits expectantly as Inric pulls on his gloves and picks up his hat. Then he trots ahead on the route to the nexus. Just before they reach the patterned floor, there's a call and a rush of hasty feet. "Inric!" It's Ffion, holding a small wrapped bundle. She passes it to Inric. "Magistra Colle said you'd be away. Take these for the journey." Inric is lost for a moment, then fishes out the right words in Rhydaben. "Thank you." It is an unfamiliar feeling.