He nods and speaks a little of focused planning with her in quiet voices that don't carry beyond them as they travel. The potion is easily procured, as is a cloak in deep navy. His staff he leaves, having decided it's too recognizable for their work tonight. They need to be as unrecognizable as possible.

Note left for Festival that he'll be out until the following day and phone put on silent, Hawke rejoins Amelia on the street, already having downed the last of his silvervine potion and feeling the course of renewed mana through him. Other effects of the potion as well, but easily ignored with the grim business before them. His gaze is dark and equally grim to face it as he moves in beside her.

"The tracking is up to you. All I ask is that while I know you're efficient, I need to look them in the eyes. Make sure they know why before the light leaves then." There's almost an audible growl in his undertone, a subtle reminder of his snow-prowling namesake.