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He instead swung his head and offered a hand, "No... there's nothing to be sorry about."

His wings extended fully as he bowed a bit more, so as even a tiny effort to raise her hand would reach his. The wings took all of the heavy rain pouring on her and left her on a wide space of dryness against the wet cobblestone walk.

"Shall we go?"

He kept smiling, hiding his feelings. The more he showed he felt sorry, the more she will too. At least, he'll be happy once she recovers from the sorrows of failure.

They had no knowledge that they were being watched, none at all. Bu they were being watched. A man stood on the peak of the inn's roof, his long white hair flowing out behind him in the sudden wind that the rain brought. His face was unlined, but it belied his many years. His form was shrouded in his black cloak as he stood silhoueted against the crashing lightning. He smiled. A bat fell dead. And, with a chuckle, he was gone.
A dark mist flowed into the young, prone wizard's hat.
He didn't wake up.

As usual, shen Trouble stirred, so did Sachi.
After all, when it feels like ice is being wrapped around your heart, there isn't much else to do but bolt up-right in bed.
It was one of those untraceable, troubles, though. The kind that sent her, armed and dangerous and on knife's edge, searching every nook and cranny of the Master's school, and sometimes a fair portion of the hot land around it. Then, as now, she would gather weapons, some provisions, if it was far she meant to go, and she would go. Searching. Looking for anything that could prove a weakness in the future.
But it was raining so heavily, now. She stuck her hand out, and it was nearly driven down with the force of the pounding water; water that hissed and tried to steam away from her skin, only to be driven back by droplet after droplet until it gave up and washed over her palm, over-powering even that trace of her homeland's power that had come with her.
She liked this... this Rain, that fell here. It was interesting, but there was so much of it. She felt as though it was washing away the sands and fire of her inner self. The self she'd found in meditation, that smelled of sun-heated rocks and sands and desert storms and cacti. It smelled of home to her.
This land was soggy. Soaked through and through by the rains that never truly ended. Well... Even deserts had storms... She brought out that strange, upside-down-bowl-on-a-stick device they called an umbrella, and proceeded in her search, starting on the outer edges of the twon and circling in, not looking for anything in particular, but everything.
Nameless Trouble was more dangerous, far more dangerous, than the trouble that she could identify, like the demons. All she knew now, was that there was one strong trouble. Coming, but in an unknown guise, an unknown location...
So she searched. And got soaked, and kept searching inspite of the cold water that seeped into her skin.

"Not neccesarily everyone!" A voice came from the old tattered hat hanging on an old oak. "Some places they perfer wings!" Waku slid out of the hat, the hair around his cat ears wet and rumpled. "How do I look?" He turned around revealing a pair of feathery white angel wings hanging from his back. They appeared to be on upside-down...

"Aw crap! Not again..." Apparently this sort of situation had happened to Waku before. "Now if he just stays knocked out, I can get him back to the inn in comfort and not even get wet..." Waku bent down and leifted the prone Fuuya up into his arms and stepped into his hat.
The interior of said hat was surprisingly roomy. A fat, comfortable looking couch squatted off to one side with a coffee table beside it. There was a small scorch mark on the top of the table, but it was barely noticable. A heavy armchair sat near the couch. It definitely appeared to get quite a bit of use. Stacks of books lay around the armchair in haphazard arrangements. A small bed lay in one corner but was too covered in bits of lion mane to really distinguish as such. Other assorted knick-knacks lay about the interior of the hat. How is there a floor in a hat? And where does that locked door lead? Don't ask. Waku laid Fuuya down on the couch on his stomach, wrapping his large wings in dry towels bearing the inn's logo. Obviously, Waku had blurred lines on the concept of theft. He sat down in the armchair and hoped that the winged being on his couch wouldn't wake up before the hat reached the inn. There would be quite a fewa awkward questions...
The hat lifted off the ground in the rainy breeze and began to float towards the inn.

His face soon felt the soft thing holding it comfortably. Not leaves. Something leathery. . . something dry.

'Wait. . . ', his mind reached him up and made him open his eyes, '. . . the forest.'

He felt his wings being held down by some thick clothing. Fuuya sat up and saw the familiar hat-guy looking back at him. The wet inn towels fell to the couch he was sitting on.

He wings was definitely less soaked now. He spread them wide and began flapping them to remove the excess water. The hat guy sits on his armchair with a queer facial expression.

Not that he thought of it - he broke his sealing spell to hide his wings.

He looked back to the hat-guy and shrugged, smiled, "I guess you have questions. I'm very much obliged to answer to return this gesture of sympathy."

Fuuya looked to his wings checking if some part of it got broken, bent, or was merely unorganized. He fixed smal portions where the feathers have taken small flaws from being soaked.

"Okay, since you put it that way, you know a way to hide this wings?"

Fuuya turned down a smile. "The last spell used on me was better than that though. Thorough hiding."

He touched his wings, "With that magic, not only does my wings be invisible, but intangible as well."

He sighed and put his attention back to the wizard, "Yours might just be a trick of light. If I ever went to the heavy rain again, these wings will be soaked and will burden me again."