The Harrower's voice comes back into the werehound's mind.
"I am not very familiar with such an creature, they are not native to this area. But I think it was a Bralani Azata, a planar creature and not an elf at all. Bralanis are among the fiercest and wildest of the azatas, living from moment to moment and always on the lookout for chances to test their skill in battle. In addition to their elf-like forms, they can take the shape of whirlwinds of dust, snow, or sand as well."
"In our realm, they are often mistaken for djinn, delighting in violent weather for its intensity and energy. Many tales describe bralani as spirits who laugh as they sail amid the strongest storms."
The trio follows the trail made by their horses when they entered the forest, not needing to take their time looking for a place to picnic. Shortly they reach the road and can increase the horses gait to return towards the city even sooner.
Slowing to a inconspicuous pace upon gaining sight of the gate on Bloodsworn Road, Korvosa's incoming and outgoing traffic is about the same as when they left. The finely dressed women are bound to attract some glances, but nothing suspicious or alarming so far as they pass by the Guardsmen and enter the city proper. There quickly pass through Endrin Square and approach High Bridge. The clopping hooves clear the stone paving as they continue on and cross over into Midland to make their way back to the bed and breakfast.
Dismounting, the sisters are not waiting long before Pontia appears to check on the commotion in front of her little inn. She sends for a groom and the horses are taken away.
The three women are a little weary from riding.