Your bile rouses you to an eloquent passion as you enumerate the harm their exhibition may be doing. You're gratified to see your argument is compelling enough that the soldier and courtier seem sheepish, [+Surety] though Gwendell seems only peeved. [-Gwendell]
"We should be off," says the one-time soldier, catching Gwendell's eye and shooting a glance skyward.
"Indeed; we have another engagement this evening. Go retrieve the pennants, I'll be there anon."
The other young artists bid you farewell. Gwendell brushes her hair from her brow and regards you, arms akimbo.
Onward