Myth shrugged, saying, "The fire goes in one direction, then we should go another. Move away from the fire; use it as cover to escape. Night approaches, so we might as well just skirt the edges until the reach the road. Keep it on our left or right, just close enough to see, but as far away as possible, in case of a change in the wind." With that, he hitched his pack higher up on his back, and motioned for Tyrell to lead. He gave him a less enthusiastic, forced smile.

"I've less experience with how fire works, I think. Best if you take the lead, if you don't mind." With the recent events, he had been going in his usual mode, but as the actions and reactions of the day passed, and he was able to stop and think about it, it began to weigh on him. Already, it felt as if he had suffered a crushing defeat; his goal was to find the King of Othea, become a Knight or some other guard-type, some important skilled bladesman, and continue training. To start the first phase of his Blademaster life. 

Well, Fate stomped on that pretty well, didn't it?