The ends of the Fool's pale cloak are aflame when they finally stagger out of the burning building together, and he sheds the garment swiftly, stomping out the tongues of flame threatening to engulf it. Though smoke has smudged his tawny skin and golden hair, his bright amber eyes are alert to the approach of the mounted officer coming towards them.

He rises to his feet a little unsteadily but juts out his jaw in something approaching defiance at the officer. "Whatever quarrel you believe you have with my friend," he says, his voice strong despite his obvious smoke inhalation, "you would perhaps be better served by investigating who started that fire."