"Did it not say we were on a mission of urgency?"
Camael turns away from watching Zevran pick the lock of the chest. "Yes, of course. Why?"
"It has been in these caves for several hours now, and there have been no enemies for me to smash."
It's hard for him to tell if Shale is genuinely upset about the lack of enemies, her stone features lacking any expression beyond grim and grimmer. It doesn't help that she talks about smashing heads in the same tone she asks where they are heading next.
"Right now we're looking for treasure rather than enemies." There's a hum of satisfaction behind him, hinges squealing as Zevran lifts the lid of the chest.
"What good will treasure do in defeating it's enemies?" There's disdain there this time, an echo of stone on steel, though not the grinding gravel of rage when she spots a bird.
"I find it useful for buying weapons and armor. Food too. People in general are more agreeable when I can flash some gold at them."
"Nonsense. Your glare is just as effective." Zevran smiles as he gets to his feet.
Shale watches them. Camael thinks she's frowning, there's a bunching of stone between where there might have been eyebrows. He feels like dealing with Shale involves a lot of guess work. "I do not require food or weapons." She curls her lip at his shield, and Camael isn't insulted. Hard to be insulted after being referred to as 'it' for the past few weeks. "Nor do I need armor." She rolls her shoulders and it sounds like a mini-avalanche.
"I use money to buy the crystals you like so much," Camael points out.
He can feel Shale thinking this over, imagines that if he could hear her thoughts it would sound like the steady hiss of falling sand. One day he might run out of rock comparisons. Probably not anytime soon.
"That is a worthy goal. How much more treasure do we need?"
"All of it." Zevran grins, gems flashing between his fingers. "There is no limit on the amount of treasure we need."
"My pack says differently." Camael frowns, tugging at the traps. He considers the weight dragging at his back, then looks at Shale's broad shoulders, shakes his head before the idea can take root.
He and Zevran watch as Shale stumps back down the tunnel, the faint rumble of her mutterings floating back to them. "Why do I feel like I just made a mistake?" Camael asks.
"Mistake is such a harsh word. I would say, slight miscalculation."
There's the distant sound of what Camael guesses used to be an innocent chest being reduced to splinters. "I guess we should have clarified that the treasure is more helpful when it's still intact."
Zevran hums in agreement, an emerald dancing between his fingers. He grins as there's another series of sharp snaps, wood protesting beneath unforgiving stone. "Five silvers says this little beauty is the last bit of glitter we carry out of here that's actually worth anything."
Camael sighs. "No bet."