Vanyel glances toward the fleeing man, but all he says is "Beira." The Dratini speeds after, intent on wrapping around his legs to keep him from running any further. He doesn't know what the man wants back at the Pantheon, but given the turn the party's taken it can't be anything good.

He himself doesn't move, except to turn so he can keep the rest of the group in his sights. He could wish he'd thought to bring his other Pokemon, rather than leaving him to guard the house - but if wishes were fishes, we'd all cast nets. And he can't afford to focus on that anyway, not with the masked group still surrounding him, even calmed by magic as they are.

"The mask?" He repeats, stepping toward the one who spoke. He reaches for the edges of their mask, lifting it carefully away from the person's face - more glad than ever that he discarded his own when the party took this dark tone.