Tihlas had just managed to get a hand up to remove his helm when he felt something cold and sharp against his throat. Returning his hand slowly to the side as he glanced at the cause of the feeling, he saw a rather beautiful yet tough looking woman with a lance to his throat. He was defenseless, sore, and his helmet felt too small with his blood rushing to his head, so he wasn't able to respond to the woman's first round of questions. After a moment, he felt the pressure of the lance increase, and somehow got the distinct smell of alcohol in his nose, was this woman drunk as well? Didn't matter, he'd have to answer her before she slit his throat open.

"I-" He was cut off when another man, a swordsman by the look of him, and wounded too, though not too badly, shouted and shoved the woman away, seeming to instinctively shield Tihlas. The swordsman, after a moment, obtained a confused look on his face and walked quietly out. Unfortunately for Tihlas, not only was he alone with a drunk woman wielding a lance again, but the slight bit of pressure from the swordsman touching was just enough to, after a few seconds, cause the table he was on to break the rest of the way, send him the rest of the way onto the floor. Needles to say, it wasn't comfortable, as he let out another groan. He might as well tell the woman who he was, since she would likely kill him either way, "I'm Tihlas, a Shepherd." After he said it, it struck him that he'd seen that swordsman's face before, and he muttered a rather short list of names to try and match them up, one of them being Zaino.

The mage had been alright before the scabbard hit the back of him. He cringed, holding the back of his head and glowering angrily at the scoundrel. Talbot didn't know what the hell was wrong with him- he was like a coiled rattlesnake, poised to strike. Scary to look at, and venomous. Even his words were dipped in venom. He thought about the poor Shepherd girl that was with them in that camp. She was bitten by one of those devils and she died screaming in pain. "My blood is on fire!" she would shriek. And then she lay still. They buried her and mourned for a bit before they moved on with their lives. The point was that this guy was dangerous. He said he was a Shepherd, but... was he really?
"Gods! That hurt!" he winced as he rubbed some more. As he expected, a bump was beginning to form. Great. Just great. A flurry of curses, directed at Zaino, flowed out of his mouth as he stared after him. "Bastard, swinging that around as if nothing. I'm pretty sure he won't like me sending a Thoron at his ass." he wasn't brave enough to actually say it louder. If they were going to get in a squabble, Zaino would be too quick for him to actually prepare a spell. Snorting, he turned to the rest. At least that wyvern girl had left. But she left her wyvern behind. "I wonder what wyvern tastes like." he prodded the wyvern on the side and sighed.
Talbot was beginning to get annoyed. His brow furrowed and he looked at the others. That man who called himself a prince was flirting with a woman and others were just standing around staring at the floor or talking to one another. "Shut up!" he cried, anger flaring. "Don't you listen?! Are your skulls thick?! We have to go!"
His nostrils flared angrily, and he put his face to his hand, fingers working away at the ridge of his nose. He was pretty sure that he was trembling. Sheesh. He wasn't one to get this angry. He often sang and strummed his lute to release his anger. But now that his arm was burned and scalding with pain, he couldn't. Averting his eyes to the hitched mounts, he heaved a sigh. Now, if only people would listen to him...

---

Before the man could speak, someone knocked her away. Grunting, she struggled to regain her footing before she collapsed to the floor. For if she did, Lumara knew that she would pass out. Thankfully, she bumped into the nearest wall, holding herself up. Lumara cursed, though it was barely audible. Now she looked ridiculous. Her green eyes remained on this man who called himself Tihlas. He claimed that he was a Shepherd as well, making her light brow arch over a glazed eye. Sounds interesting. A Shepherd who hadn't taken part in that battle... her lips curled into a smirk. This will be interesting.
Lumara walked the rest of the way up to Tihlas. Of course she didn't walk in a straight line, for everything looked slanted at the moment. "If you're really a Shepherd," she slurred. "Get yer ass up and prove it. Yer coming with us, and I'll be watching ye." she raised her lance and took it into both hands, pointing the metal tip at him. "Come on, up." she barked, threatening to jab the weapon at him once again.
Believe it or not, the drunkard harlot was never always like this. She was once a noble, properly trimmed and properly raised. However, she was never able to go out by herself. Never allowed to have guy friends. Never allowed to even think for herself. She was constantly bought frilly dresses and was quickly offered up for marriage as soon as she first flowered at the age of thirteen. It was there that she drew the line. She ran away and lived the wild life. She quickly joined a group of bandits, looking for adventure. One thing led to another and there she was.
"You know, I met a man that told me he was a Shepherd. I cut his throat. It pleased me to see him gasping as he lost his life. He lied. He was a spy. I might be a drunken whore but I'm not stupid. I'm pretty sure that I think quicker than anyone here."

She's off balance, but then again, she still has a weapon, and she definitely wasn't afraid of tripping and stabbing him. "And how exactly am I to prove it?" Seriously, its not like they had a symbol to go by, or if they did, he never paid much attention to it. He finally managed to get up and onto his feet, stumbling slightly at the sudden rush of dizziness, and removed his helm, holding it in his right as his left held his shield. It was at this point that she told him her little story, about how she killed a spy that claimed to be a shepherd. "If there's more shepherds here, then I hope they're ones I know, or that they know me, for I don't have have other proof than my own word." He got the distinct feeling that the woman was on the threshold of passing out. Tihlas walked out of the inn, fully aware of the lance pointing at his back.

A Day Later…

”I think we should stop here.”

They had left the capital of Plegia a day ago, walking until it was dusk. The shadows had grown long, the breeze had picked up a bit. It made the harsh temperature drop a bit, providing some sort of relief for the troop. Talbot was at the head of the platoon, not because he wanted to be the leader, but because he wanted to camp where they had been before. The dead trees would cast shade upon them when it was day, and there was a brook where they had found that man and the woman. Though, he was a bit… unhappy. Sad, even. Helena was killed in that battle, leaving them without a leader. His brown eyes looked down at the dry ground as he tossed his satchel in the corner. His arm was better now, still stinging a bit but not causing as much pain as it had before. No longer did every movement cause him to cry out. That pompous prince’s poultice did well.

He sat down on the ground and pulled off his lute from his back. He set it in his lap and strummed it slightly, beginning to sing. ”It’s always summer under the sea, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh,” it was the only way that he could release his stress. The sadness from the death of Helena was killing him. The mourning was eating away at his insides. She was a good woman, a very good woman. And now she was dead, slaughtered at the hands of the Ylissean first tiers. ”The birds have scales, and the fish take wing, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh…” perchance this would make the rest of the troops calm, or even a bit happy. Even though it was horrible that there was a death within their ranks, they should remember Helena for what she was, not that crumpled body on the sandy cobblestone floor.

”The rain is dry, and the snow falls up, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh… the stones crack open, the water burns… the shadows come to dance, my love, the shadows come to play… the shadows come to dance, my love, the shadows come to stay…”

At the end it took a dark turn, but Talbot was fond of the song. He remembered when he was younger, just a boy. The bards would sing such songs in the middle of the streets. The kids would squeal and dance, but that was so long ago, when there was peace in the world. The black haired man smiled at the memory, and for once he wondered if it would have been better if he had not joined the Shepherds in the first place. He could have been in peace, and yet… he would not have met that beautiful woman that called herself Natalia. He would not have known the power of love and friendship. And he would not have known the pang of loss.

Tears began to come to his eyes, and he blinked them away. ”We need a fire to cook food, and someone to hunt, and someone else to fill water pouches.” he told the rest. ”It’s a suggestion, but you can do whatever you want.”

THE DAY BEFORE

There wasn't anything truly magnificent about the capital of Plegia; the only thing that really stood out was the skull of Grima near the castle's courtyard, which usually served to scare off children that visited the country with nothing but sand. Though, Xanxus wasn't here for tourism; he was here on official business, and he had no time to waste. Riding to the capital had already chipped hours out of the night and proved somewhat difficult from the terrain, but nonetheless, he was there now.

Two Plegian soldiers tensed as they rushed to open the gates to the palace, having not questioned Xanxus about the unannounced audience with the King in the midst of night. It was obvious to them just who he was, but he didn't care about such meaningless titles and statuses. They never mattered to him, as long as he was the one in control of the situation.

He never took his hand from the hilt of his sword; when he had been an hour away from the capital, he'd seen a stray wyvern flying in the opposite direction, towards their camp, knowing full well that it had belonged to one of the Ylissean scouts that Lantus had sent. He was unsure of what specifically, but it was obvious that something had transpired between the scouts and another armed collective. Their scouts had not returned from their patrol in the capital, and one of the few answers was the Shepherds.

"Well met, Uncle." Xanxus greeted Parnell, the King of Plegia, in a friendly connotation as he strode casually into the throne room. He turned his head slightly to his back and saw the doors that were the entrance into the throne room slam shut, returning his eyes to the back of the King. "I've a request on behalf of the Exa-"

Parnell turned back to Xanxus and raised a hand as he were telling him to stop, interrupting him. "I've heard enough, Xanxus."

"What?" Xanxus' bored look quickly shifted into a venemous glare. "Beg your pardon?"

It was then that soldiers, bearing the Plegian coat of arms, emerged from the shadowy corners of the throne room. He counted a total of six, half of them being wielders of magic and the rest as assortment of swords and axes. As Xanxus looked back into the eyes of Parnell, it wasn't hard to see the King's clear intentions. "What's the meaning of this?"

"These are my finest soldiers," Parnell seemed to ignore Xanxus' question. "They'll be more than enough to stop you."

Xanxus sighed, shaking his head and brandishing his sword. So, he does know something.

"Parnell, if we're going down this road, you're going to need more than six people."

---

[all of this typing is taking a toll on my humanity, so I'm either going to revisit this battle scene at a later time, or it's just gonna be skipped for the interest of time.]

"Is this all that has been recovered of Plegia's might? Still beneath the shadow of your predecessors, I see."

"You may be my sister's son," Parnell paced along the throne room, his seemingly nervous hands trailing behind him and wrapping around the hilt of a lightning-imbued sword. He looked to the ground for a moment before averting his look back at Xanxus. "But you're no more than the scoundrel your father was."

Xanxus laughed. "Now, now, I would be angry too if my castle could be conquered so quickly by a single person. A sore loser, are we?"

"Though, I never intended on any of this to occur," Xanxus continued, using his foot to turn the corpse of a Sorceror on to their side. "I simply came with a request, holding no ill intentions, and in an impulsive decision, you sent your six of your own people to their deaths. Yet, you call me the scoundrel? Scum."

"I know that the Exalt is the one who ordered for the massacre of the Shepherds, and I know that you were the one who carried it out. As much as I sway for peace, I cannot allow such a murderous act to go unnoticed and continue without justice, and if it means that I must end my own nephew's life..."

The King of Plegia gritted his teeth and released the sword from its scabbard, raising it above his head. "... Then for the greater good of Plegia and Ylisse, so be it. Prepare yourself."

Instinctively, Xanxus stepped to the side as an arc of lightning slammed onto the tiles at where he'd been standing. "Parnell, think about your country. Think about your family, and what you're throwing away."

"Speak no more!" Parnell continued to send lightning bolts down the throne room and towards Xanxus, almost as if he was confident that he would beat Xanxus. Kings and rulers like Parnell were not meant to be warriors; perhaps they hadn't meant to exist at all, but instead, they were the products of a world subjected to nothing but the foppish greed. This entire squabble with the King would end faster than the lives of the Shepherds when he would find them.

Xanxus effortlessly avoided the flurry of lightning and, seeing an opening, took a single step that propelled him greatly forward. He raised the sword above his head and as he was close enough to see Parnell's fearful expression, Xanxus swung downward to end the old man's life.

"Release." A voice mumbled as the noises within the throne room suddenly came to a hush, and a figure appeared between Xanxus and Parnell.

[there'll be a continuation of this in a later post. I cannot focus any longer with five ADHD kids under the age of 10 all around me.]

In the time that they had left the capital, Tihlas had more or less recovered. He still had a slight bit of dizziness from what must have been a small concussion, and he didn't feel as sore as before. He made his way to a spot with a tree, sitting down and leaning against it to rest. It would almost be relaxing, with the breeze and how cool it was, if it wasn't for the fact that the woman from earlier, who still seemed a bit tipsy, hadn't stopped pointing her weapon at him since they met. So, yeah, he felt a little defenseless in this situation considering he was surrounded by strangers that may or may not be Shepherd like himself.

But alas, there wasn't really a way for him to prove himself, and it was likely that he needed to put his life on the line to gain their trust. It wouldn't be too hard to do, he often took or blocked attacks for friends and allies that were wounded or defenseless. The sorcerer had been playing a song, in mourning of someone who had apparently died in the fight back then. It was dusk, so it seemed even more fitting than usual. Once finished, the sorcerer suggested that people should collect a few things and start a fire. Tihlas would've helped, as it would be a start, but again, the tipsy woman with a lance pointed threateningly at him wasn't giving him any indication to volunteer. So instead, he sat back and mumbled to himself, "I need a drink..."

Vellia followed as the Shepherds made their way slowly down the road. They had lost one of their members, but she had been willing to join up in their ranks. When they stopped finally, a mage from among their ranks announced what was needed, she didn't hesitate to offer her help. "I don't know how to hunt, but I can gather firewood," Vellia offered. She wasn't known for her loud voice, and for all she knew, no one had even paid her any notice. She was a warrior, not cut out for speaking or even most chores, but her axe would be helpful for this task.

She started with finding the smaller dried branches that littered the surrounding area. They would need something smaller to initiate the fire more easily, she figured, unless they used magic to start it...she didn't know if they would, as she was not familiar with their methods. Then was the fun part. She found a recently felled log that had been completely uprooted. She released the clip that held her axe at her hip and began chopping the wood into usable pieces. When she had about ten good sized chunks of wood, she brought them over so the fire could be started, and continued cutting the wood until the only remains of the tree were the roots, which were virtually useless.

As she sat at the fire, Vellia pulled out her whetstone, still keeping to herself, and began sharpening her axe. It could still be used, though cutting trees was not what a weapon like this was made for. If her axe were simply iron, that would be a different story, but this was meant to be much more. A beautifully elegant yet lethal heavyset metal blade. It was as much a work of art as it was a weapon, and she made sure to take care of it to the best of her ability.

A man. A man who he held in high regards, who he had sent to speak to the king of Plegia. Kill him if he wanted to. A man who he had seen cut down strong warriors as if he were slicing a cake. And yet, he had failed.

Darrian was pissed as fuck.

Everyone knew it. From the way that he sat atop his horse, tense and fuming, to his angry, blue gaze watching the horizon. His teeth worked behind a thin layer of stubble [as he had forgotten to shave that morning] and his brow was angled downwards. His men, a fleet of pegasi riders and archers, glanced nervously amongst one another. They knew that they shouldn’t speak to Darrian. They knew that if they did, they would suffer his wrath. They had seen one of their men cut down already when he simply went up to the Exalt to give him a simple report. A word had escaped his lips, and then his head went flying. His men were confused as to why Darrian did not yell or screech at Xanxus as much as he did to him, but Darrian was smart. Xanxus was- to say the least –stronger than him. He had seen him in battle.

Morningstar huffed impatiently as horse and rider rode up a sand dune. Darrian wanted to see if there was anything worth looking at in this hell hole. It was hot, so very hot. But that did not make Darrian strip his colors. No, he wore the tunic, the leather boots, the trousers, and the long, wool cloak of blue-gray. Others wore looser clothing, ones of light colors and thin fabric. He believed that taking off his Exalt garments would prove that he was weak and doing so would throw his namesake into the dust. His blue eyes rested on the horizon once more, watching the sun sink in the pale yellow sea and turning the vivid azure sky into a burst of wine red. No clouds spotted the sky, yet wind blew his hair back and slipped sand into his eyes. He rubbed at them, grumbling a curse. I would have Xanxus hung when we get back to Ylisse, but that would be very foolish of me.

”Any sign of other civilzations?” he called to a flying Pegasi knight. The male rider looked down at him and frowned.

“No, milord. Mayhaps there is one beyond those dunes over there. I wouldn’t expect it to be a large town, maybe a few wooden buildings in the midst of the sands.”

Darrian, who was exasperated to begin with, huffed loudly. Great. Just great. ”Xanxus!” he barked, voice hoarse. Maybe he was in a bad mood because he had drunk too much. Maybe he was in a bad mood because all there was to eat were some rattlesnakes and lizards and a stray desert dwelling cat. Maybe it was because he was still pissed off with Xanxus. Or maybe all three? ”Get your ass up here.” he lowered his voice then, looking around for the black haired elite soldier. He was at the head of the group, as always. He needed someone to talk to to calm his nerves. Even if it was the man that he wished he could kill.

---

Lumara hiccuped as she staggered into the camp, flushed as she leant on her lance and took another swig of whiskey from one of her many flasks. It was warm, but that was the way she liked it. It would still get her drunk. She loved being drunk. The feeling of flying through the air as if she were a wyvern herself. And the mystery of lying with different men. Of course, then came the hangovers and the pregnancy scares when her blood didn’t come in time. It was then that she was no longer the fun loving Lumara that everyone knew. No, she became dark. Aggressive even. One mustn’t stand in the way of her then, oh no. She would become as vicious as Grima itself, roaring and threatening to destroy every male she every slept with. And of course, that would be almost every male she met. Which wouldn’t be good for the population in the long run, but who cared?

Caius panted as he walked beside her, the wyvern going ahead and lying on the ground, curling up. He looked much like a rock in the shade of the trees… but it was his eyes and tail that tipped it off. She giggled walking over to him and sitting in the curve of his body. He nestled his head closer to his rider and, nostrils flaring, looked at Tihlas, who had been sitting a foot away. She patted the beast’s nose and narrowed her eyes. She had been guarding him ever since they met. Her eyes were always watching him, seeing what he would do and when. Yet, he seemed to be a fairly simple knight. He didn’t complain as much as she expected. It was then that he asked for a drink.

Oh? This would be fun.

”’ere. It’s rum. Never touched my lips. Some of the good stuff, too.” she pulled off another flask from her belt and threw it at him. A grin curled across her face, and she watched him closely. It had been a while since she had a man. Then again, that had been what, two, three days from then? Yet, Plegian bandits were not good bed partners. Even Lumara had to admit that their brutal ways were almost too much. She sighed, leaning against her wyvern and sipping at her whiskey. ”The night sky sure is pretty, eh, Caius, ol’ pal?”

The wyvern grunted and turned his eyes upward, gazing at the sky as his owner did. Lumara wondered how much he thought beyond that thick wyvern skull of his, but she knew that he was almost too smart for his own good. He knew what bedtime was, he knew what drink was, and he knew what treats were. It was kind of cute, actually. Okay. Very cute. ”Are you going to drink that or not?” she asked the knight sharply, glancing at him with annoyed, emerald eyes. ”Because my liquor is running a bit dry, and I might need that later on. I love drinking you see. I’ve been in rough patches before, and I don’t want to be in one again if I don’t have to.” she was speaking of withdrawal. Alcohol withdrawal. Naga help them if they ever saw Lumara like that.

---

Talbot continued to strum at his lute as he watched the woman gather firewood and start a fire. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he looked up at the sky, fingers still working away at the strings of his lute. Ah, song. How much he loved song. The sound of it, how it lifted his spirits. How it lifted everyone’s spirits. Why that woman ignored his singing and strumming, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the death of Helena? But… he rather not dwell on that. It would just get him angry and confused. And Naga forbid if he ever got like that again. He would become another Shepherd Bandit, another Zaino. And he didn’t want to do that to the archers and the knight and the cavalier and that woman. He sighed and licked his lips, preparing himself for another song.

”A bear there was, a bear, a bear, all black and brown and covered with hair, oh come, they said, oh come to the fair, said he, but I’m a bear, all black and brown and covered with hair!” he sung this upbeat and robust song loudly and with all of his remaining vigor, a smile playing on his lips. He laughed between lines and pauses, and the light never vanished from his eyes. For this was the man that Natalia had loved, and that was the man he would continue to be. ”Oh sweet she was, pure and fair, the maid with honey in her hair, the maid with honey in her hair! The bear smelled the scent in the summer air, the bear, the bear, all black and brown and covered with hair!”

He laughed then, walking over to Vellia and grinning down at her. He sat beside her, even if the heat from the fire was a bit too much for his liking. ”I called for a knight, but you’re a bear, a bear, all black and brown and covered with hair! She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair, but he licked the honey from her hair, her hair, her hair, he licked the honey from her hair! Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air, she sang: my bear so fair! And off they went, the bear, the bear, and the maiden fair!” he laughed when he finished, shaking his head. It was such a happy song.

”Tell me, woman, don’t you like to sing?” he questioned, continuing to play with his strings as he looked at her. Maybe he should make friends other than Silas.

---

AMBRA
The first thing she felt was the sensation of being suspended in mid air. Panic struck her heart, and she flailed, only to fall onto the ground. The ground was sandy, as she would have expected if she actually knew where she was. Yet, the fall still hurt. Where was she? She opened her eyes to see blurred images flickering in her vision, and soon, she could make out dried trees and the dark sky. Her head felt it was cleaved in half by an axe. Groaning, she rolled over on her back and ran her hand through her hair, feeling a bandage bound around her head. The act had been done by someone that had no experience in the way of healing.Great. Her head ached more and she ran a hand over her face. "Ugh... what happened?" she questioned, rubbing her eyes. She looked around and saw Zaino and a few other people, ones she didn't know. The bard that was leaning against a tree looked up from lazily strumming his lute.
"You hit your head. It was pretty bad, actually. Blood was spilling everywhere." the man said. "Luckily, the Shepherd Bandit got to you in time. He's over there." he motioned with his head. "He's in pretty bad shape as well. All of that flowery crap you put on him was ruined."
Is he insane? I told him to stay put! Ambra's brow furrowed and she exhaled loudly, standing up and trying to establish her footing. She swayed from side to side, and it was then that she decided that she had to lean on a tree herself. She walked over to him, leaning most of her weight on the trees. "You know, I told you to stay still and let the wounds heal. Now you ripped them all open and they're possibly going to fester. Then it'll hurt ten times as much." she meant to frown at him, but her aggression and disappointment showed up as a childish pout on her lips. "Come on, lean back, I have to do everything over again." she snapped, a bit stressed that she would have to waste more of her herbs. She slowly sank to her knees and began to rummage around in her bag, pulling out the herbs she used on him last time. "Thanks for the bandaging on my head. Though... it could have been done better..."

ZAINO
Another Shepherd, dead.
Another friend, gone.

It wasn't until the next day when Zaino had awakened that he heard the news. Helena, perhaps the only person he moderately knew and could've trusted among these people, had fallen during the previous battle, and the reality of it strung more than any of his wounds. The daughter of the East Khan, his 'nemesis' at birth. How was he able to return to Regna Ferox and break the news to the Khans? Whether or not these people intended on going there, he would go by himself if he had to. Personally, he felt that he was the only person capable of delivering the news, for these people weren't worth his trust; every single one of them. Straying from the small makeshift camp that they had constructed to rest for the night, he drove a fist into the bark of a tree and placed his other hand atop of his forehead, mad at the people but mostly himself for not being able to change things.

"How many more people have to die..." Zaino cursed, resting his forehead against the tree. He didn't care about his wounds, he cared about avenging every single Shepherd and civilian that Xanxus and Ylisse slaughtered in their massacre. If he lost his dominant right arm, he would fight until he lost his left arm, and even then, he would resort to biting if he had to. If I don't have anything to live for, then I'll find something to die for. "Damn it!"

In the midst of his frustration, Zaino briefly wheeled around to see the woman who'd bandaged him the other day before turning back to the bark. So she's awake... great. "My own weakness is why I bleed. My master told me, 'each cut is a lesson, and each scar a reminder.' I'm not your problem."

[b]"I bandaged you because there was a leftover in the room that wasn't ripped up." Zaino continued, the bloodied bandages from his upper legs to his chest covered in blood from the reopened wounds. "Be glad I even gave you a little attention."

AMBRA
Well, someone was in a bad mood.
Why, Ambra didn't know, but in a way, she expected it from that dark haired, dark eyed man that seemed to be reveling in anger. She had caught sight of him punching a poor tree, one that wasn't deserving of said treatment. Her cool colored gaze remained on him as he spoke, knowing that he was just upset. "You are my problem. I'm doing you a favor." she explained to him, setting the lavender to the side as she looked for more herbs. His wounds were ripped more than she expected; the clean bandages she had put on him a few hours before were now soaked in life's liquid. "I'm a healer. I'm not a cleric, of course, but I tend to wounds in the traditional way. Since you are my brother in arms, I have to help you. Maybe not side by side in battle, but after it, when you're weak and bleeding."
This man was stubborn. It seemed that he just wanted to be left alone to die from the looks of it. "I told you to lean back and let me fix you up again. You're giving me a headache. Not that I don't already have one..." she rubbed her head again, wincing at the feeling of her hand brushing against her wound. Owww.
"You've been in a number of problems today, Zaino." she told him. "First, I find myself on the ground with your sword in my face, ready to start a fight. Then, you pass out and I find out you were poisoned. You then fall from a bed in a Plegian inn and have a battle with a spider. And after that you reopen your wounds in battle. You seem to adore trouble, Zaino." she motioned for him to lay down. "How did you get poisoned, by the way?" she questioned as she popped the lavender in her mouth, chewing away. She really did have to get a grinding bowl...

ZAINO
"Brother in arms?" Zaino laughed at the thought, albeit a pained one. Though, it was not of pain from his wounds, but a heartfelt one. A tinge of disgust joined his anxiety, slowly bringing himself to stand upright and turn to Ambra. "I'll tell you how. My 'brother in arms' poisoned me."

Zaino's glare shifted to his feet, balling up a fist as it met the bark of the tree once more, chipping off a piece of its exterior. He backed away from Ambra and leaned against the tree, slowly crumbling to the ground as he allowed his body to give in once again. Deep down, he knew that he shouldn't have been pushing himself too hard, but if he let his guard down for a minute, the same thing would've happened again. Trust was no longer a given, yet, he found himself unable to maintain his hostility any longer. "My brother led the massacre of the Shepherds and I was there for all eight of them. Each and every time, I narrowly escaped with my life."

Zaino paused for a moment, gritting his teeth and his tone shifting into its hateful tune. "Two friends of mine, people I knew for the four years that I've been with the Shepherds, also survived, and we left for Plegia. Before we crossed over the border away from Ylisse, they tried to kill me. They were hired by my brother to assassinate any surviving Shepherds that they could find, and I just so happened to be one of them. I was more wounded than the two of them, so I couldn't stop them as easily. One of them tried to stab me with a dagger, and," he pointed to his side. "That's where this came from."

AMBRA
Ambra watched Zaino. Everything he said stung her heart. But now that he was on the floor, she crawled over to him and set her bag down near his feet. The sound of his voice was almost sad, making her even more depressed than she alrady felt. Taking a chance, she began to pull back his bandages. The wounds were drenched in blood. Her blue eyes flicked back up to his face. His friend poisoned him. That had to be... a horrible feeling. She didn't know what she would do. Biting her lip, she glanced away. "I assure you I will do no such thing to you. I can hardly fight, let alone try to kill you." she told him softly.
"That's a slow poison, meant to make you suffer. Those assassins must have had no heart at all." she glanced down at her newly bloodied hands. "Now tell me something, will you let me tend to your wounds or not?"

ZAINO
Would things have been different, had I said no?

"Whatever," Zaino replied in his own way of accepting. That was about as far as he had wanted to open himself up to others at this point, but as much as he tried to convince himself that it was because he couldn't bring himself to trust anyone, there was something telling him deep down that it was that he didn't want to burden and worry anyone.

Once fixated on his surroundings, Zaino's relaxed eyes met Ambra's eyes one more like the first time they had locked at the inn, though he quickly severed the stare and returned to keeping an eye out on their surroundings in case they were being followed again. He could sense that Ambra wasn't lying to him, and in her voice there was honesty, but it would take more than that to break him. "Go ahead."

AMBRA
A smile crossed her face and she rubbed the chewed up plant onto a rag. She took out another rag and soaked that, beginning to pull the bandages back more. She cleaned them, silent, trying not to make things awkward. Here was an aggressive man, strong, and very upset. She didn't want to disturb him any more. She hummed a quiet tune as she rubbed at the wounds some more, then covering them in the poultice. She hummed a bit more and glanced up at him. "These herbs will ease the pain and keep the wounds from becoming infected. You don't want to be yowling when they're red and swollen." she smiled more.

ZAINO
”Yeah, my mom used to say the same about herbs,” Zaino might have sounded the most non-hostile and casual that he had been since the massacre, smiling warmly at the thought of his mother but quickly replacing it with a blank face. He shut his eyes for a moment from the dreadful headache he had experienced the night before, around an hour after they had departed from the capital. It felt unlike any other average headache he'd ever had before, but it might've just been from putting his body constantly at work and not properly giving it the time to rest. Plus, he hadn't eaten anything or drunken water in days, so that had to be taken into account. ”But I was a kid, so I never understood any of that apothecary work she did.”

Thinking about his mother, Zaino thought back to those simpler times, and there was a memory of the question that had plagued him for years and forced him back into his serious expression as Ambra continued, looking her dead in the eye. ”Where do babies come from? Like, infants?”

AMBRA
It seemed that this very powerful man loved his mother. Ambra felt warm inside as his face changed, happy to know that at least one thing that made him mellow. She continued to tend to his gashes, wiping away the blood until the wound became redder with the force of the rag against skin- she had to make sure that she got all of the clotted blood out -and rubbed in the medicine. "Your mother is an apothecary? Really?" she beamed at the thought. It would have been a huge help if Zaino had learned something from his mother. Then she could have had an aid. "It's really not that hard to understand. You just have to have a good memory with herbs."
When she finished putting the pulp on his wounds, and putting some more snakeweed on the once poisoned wound just in case, she began to wrap bandages around him once again. She continued to hum when suddenly she felt someone stare at her. She glanced up and frowned at Zaino. What..? He asked her a question, but... was he serious? Was this a joke? She flushed, her brow furrowing. "E...excuse me?" she stammered, only growing redder. "... are... a-are you serious? You aren't joking... right?"

ZAINO
"... No?" Zaino tilted his head, confused at Ambra's sheepish reaction to his question. He didn't understand why she had suddenly become embarassed and visibly flustered, his expression unchanged. He thought back to when his mother had said that she would've told him about babies sometime after his seventh birthday, but it never happened in the next three years after he had been sent to his master for apprenticeship. "Why? What's wrong?"

AMBRA
Ambra visibly winced when Zaino said that he indeed wasn't joking. Crap, he isn't pulling my leg?! she thought in shock. She just couldn't believe it. A man taller than her, sharp minded and deadly with a blade... and he possibly still believed in stories of a bird that took wing with a bundle of cloth that held a baby in its beak? She looked at him more, cringing and still red as ever. Gods! Why did he have to ask me-?! "Um... nothing! Nothing is wrong. Having a baby is completely and utterly natural. Let me... regain my bearings and... I'll tell you then."[b] she took a deep breath and exhaled, taking a few moments to reorganize her thoughts.
[B]"Um... okay. There's a man and a woman, okay? The man loves said woman, or he just wants to be with her for fun. The woman also has to love the man or be with him for fun. So, the both of them go to bed. They take off their clothes and..." she coughed, flushing more. "They kiss and hug and touch each other. And then, when they're ready, the woman... I mean, the man... uses what's between his legs and puts it between the woman's legs. And... have you seen how cows do it? Or horses? S-sheesh..." she winced, rubbing the back of her head. "That's basically it. Then months pass and the baby grows in the woman's belly. They get really big. Ummm... then she has to push the baby out from between her legs again. I heard it hurts. A lot. The woman really screams. So..." she looked at him awkwardly. "That's where babies come from."

ZAINO
Zaino, almost like a docile toddler, had rested his head upon his palm and kept his eyes right on Ambra as she answered him, nodding as he felt the last root to his childhood tear apart. He nodded a few times and would occasionally mutter an "Oh" every now and then. Still, even after the entire description, he couldn't see why Ambra was embarassed. "Sounds cool. No wonder why my brother wasn't ever home when I was little."

Zaino looked down briefly, then with a sudden look of realization, looked back up at Ambra with his eyes squinted and backed away again. "You didn't do anything funny to me when I was knocked out last time, did you?"

AMBRA
Ambra watched his expression, surprised that he didn't react as strongly as she expected him to. She was absolutely mortified at what came next however. A question. Not an innocent question like he asked before, but a very dark, messed up one. It was almost as if he wanted to embarrass her more. She huffed, her eyes averting back the ground. "Of course not! What kind of woman do you think I am?!" she told him. "I never even thought of doing such things with another man!" she told him, flushing more. "Not to mention I wouldn't even know what to do! I'd just be laying there like an idiot!"

ZAINO
"Anyway," Zaino sighed, dropping the matter. He placed a hand under Ambra's chin and lifted her head up, turning it to where she had been hit and observing the bloodied bandage. "You need me to re-do this?"

AMBRA
Ambra thought that she was going to faint. With the questions and his touch and all of that, she felt a bit light headed. Coughing, she pulled away and cast her eyes to the ground. "No, it's fine. Good for now, at least." she told him, backing away a bit. "I... think the mage wants people to hunt. I should, because I am good at archery and stuff." and with that, she fled.

Tihlas' head throbbed a little as the woman stumbled over to her wyvern, giving him a look as she went. It irritated him a bit, knowing that she would have to be the first person he needed to gain the trust of, and it likely wouldn't be easy. So, it surprised him when she tossed him a flask of rum, which he caught and held in front of him, a little confused at the sudden change in attitude. Some of the good stuff, huh? He thought to himself, it seemed suspicious though, and why did she feel she had to say she hadn't drank out of it? Whatever, he needed the drink after the previous events.

Right before he opened it, the woman spoke again, threatening to take it back if he didn't drink it soon. Feeling he had to now, and thinking it as a way to get back at her for the way she'd been acting towards him, he opened it and downed it in one go with a somewhat annoyed look. It took a bit, but the drink started to work its magic as his face began to redden. Though it would take more than a single flask of it to make him very drunk, or wasted, maybe.

The woman watched Tihlas drink from the flask. She had to laugh. A lightweight. She could see the flush crossing his cheeks as he drank deeply from the container. Lumara shook her head and looked to the wyvern that was watching as well. She patted his nose and laughed a bit more. "See there, Caius? That's what they call a lightweight. Note the blush on his cheeks. He's already drunk from taking a drink of that good stuff! Too bad, I thought that this was going to be fun. But..." her smirk deepened and she looked at Tihlas once more. "Oi." she tossed him another flask, this one filled with the same rum that she had given him before. "Take more. That's the best I have."
Of course, she was just saying that. If it was the best alcohol she had on her, she wouldn't give it to a total stranger. Lumara watched him more closely, her eyes observant. "I didn't know that you liked to drink as well. I mean, I personally love to drink." it was obvious. She was almost always drunk. And when she was sober, she was one mean woman.

Vellia couldn't help but grin at the song that the bard was playing. It was a rather comical and upbeat ballad about a maiden and a bear, every line rhyming with the others with the sound of "air" at the end. Then, during one of the short instrumental interludes between verses, she found the bard sitting next to her. Though Vellia smiled, she did not look at the man. She wouldn't know what to do. And what if she smiled directly at him? That would likely give him the wrong impression, so she continued sharpening her axe, though a little slower and less focused on the task so she wouldn't appear as if she were trying to block him out.

Vellia found herself laughing for a moment with him as the song came to an end. She had caught herself, in the middle of his singing, humming quietly along, though probably out of tune, with the now concluded ballad. "Tell me, woman, don’t you like to sing?" the bard asked, strumming, but not singing now.

She glanced for a moment upward, taking the risk at meeting him with a smile and setting her whetstone and axe beside her. "Um . . . I could, but it probably wouldn't . . . um . . . sound very good. I usually just listen. And you can. . . . um . . . Just call me Vellia." I certainly hope he doesn't ask me to sing with him. I'd end up embarrassing myself. Vellia thought she felt her face growing warm. She wasn't used to much conversation, especially with men.

Talbot was pleased to see that woman happy and upbeat, seemed to like that song that he sung. It was a happy song, after all. He imagined a large black bear carrying a maiden off into the horizon. Even that vision was comical. Then, that woman spoke, saying that she rather listen. Oh well, she wouldn't pressure her into singing. Singing was supposed to be fun, not something yhat was forced. His dark eyes watched her closely, a grin spreading across his face. He was a very happy fellow, oh yes. The sorcerer made sure to try to be happy so everyone else could be happy. So this woman's name is Vellia. Pretty. Then again, most women's names are. Unless they're called Olga or Gertrude. Those sound too rough for my taste.
"Pleased to meet you, Vellia! My name's Talbot. You can call me Tal, if you don't feel like actually saying my whole name." he chuckled, looking back at the fire. The heat was almost too much for him. Yet, their meal would be cooked in those fires. His stomach grumbled and he rummaged around in his satchel where he kept his tomes and other things. He pulled out some dates, the ones that Ambra dropped when she was jumped by Zaino. "I like to sing a lot," he told her. "But I dislike dancing. I think that's a bit too much for me. Some say that I should have become a bard, instead of a sorcerer. I don't think I can do much by strumming my lute on the battlefield. However, I can sing a pretty mean battle song if I get into the heat of the fight." he grinned broadly.
His eyes flicked upwards, into the fire and then at everyone else. That wyvern Lord was more drunk than ever, and she was intoxicating a poor knight in the corner. The Shepherd Bandit seemed to have his wounds fixed all over again, and that little Red went to hunt. He yawned, setting his lute in his lap and stretching, falling backwards and putting his hands behind his head. "Man in the moon stands and strides~" he sang happily once more.

Vellia smiled as the man, who had introduced himself as Tal, told her a little about himself. She enjoyed that, at the very least, she had a reassurance that he wouldn't ask her to dance of all things. He seemed a rather lighthearted man, and Vellia was thankful that this was the first of the Shepherds she had become acquainted with. "It was . . . um . . . I'm pleased . . . uh . . . glad to meet you, too, Tal," Vellia stammered. She took in the whole scene. They were certainly a unique bunch.

Her brow furrowed when the girl she had seen earlier began to hurry off as if to hunt for food. When Vellia had seen her last, she was hardly alive. She shouldn't be doing anything strenuous. She shouldn't even be walking right now, but there was nothing that Vellia could do to stop that. Instead she merely returned to her own work at sharpening her weapon as her new friend laid back and began singing again. Vellia tried to keep her task in tempo with the music so it would sound less obnoxious, and began quietly humming along once more. She hoped none would hear her.

As she continued, she felt the heat of the fire. Vellia thought of simply laying back and sleeping. It was comfortably warm, maybe even too warm, but she would not complain. The heat lulled her into relaxation. She eventually decided to cease the sharpening of her axe, set it and her sword aside within reach, and laid on her right side, curling up and merely listening as the sorcerer continued his singing, not very far away. He had a talent Vellia felt jealous of, and she was introduced to a form of relaxation, of peace, and of joy she found foreign. Her days in Regna Ferox had not once shown her what real relaxation, and her smile became soft as she merely allowed the peace to bring the most comfortable sleep she had ever felt encompass her.

"I'm not a lightweight. And this isn't the good stuff, I'm only drinking it 'cause I feel I need to," Tihlas said in his defense, downing half the next flask before stopping. The throbbing headache he had turned into a numbed ache, and he scratched a spot on his head in thought, "If this was actually the good stuff, then I might just be considered a lightweight..." He admitted, the blush was as far as he'd gotten, even after finishing the second flask.

He knew she wouldn't give him her best drink, he could tell she was usually drunk off her arse most of the time and likely saved her best drinks for hard time... Or really good times.

After the battle each member of the family went to help out however they could. Leon had gotten the two elixers that were left and used one on Ambra. It was made partially from the same magic dust tomes were, an alchemist making it especially for healing. Although it would heal all of the archers wounds, her constitution from being unconscious and not eating would cause issues. The family decide to trek with the Shepards for now, as they had little ways of escaping a battalion if the was indeed one chasing them. Before they left Neo gave the pegasus and wyvern that were left over to the innkeeper for payment for the extensive damage done. Riding either beast was a skill that needed to be taught and wouldnt come to any use in their nomadic band.

As they finally came to a stop both horses were quickly tied up to rest. Neo surveyed the land. He wished the stream was bigger, to be a good barrier, but it was still usable for some food if nothing else. "A good location sir Talbot."

Leon rolled his eyes next to him and spoke in a quiet tone to his brother. "I know you like to see potential in people, but not every cavalier becomes a paladin. He doesnt want to lead Neo.  look at him." He said, nodding at Talbot. Neo just looked back at him. " and yet even you improve sometimes brother. Now get a couple of people together and go collect more wood. We'll freeze if we dont get a decent supply for cooking and heat. Maybe your muse and her new drinking buddy can help with that. Trin?" He called for his daughter, who was looking around at the group, playing a mental game of figuring out everyones name, skill, amd background. Her concentration broken, Trin looked guiltily at her father.
"Yes?"
"Take some people to hunt or set up traps for food. I'm going to work by the stream for the moment." Taking a long, thin material that looked like a blanket out and walking towards the stream he nodded to Talbot. "Talbot, Vellia, could you both assist me by the river?" He asked, continuously walking towards the river while he spoke. "Anyone who can use magic and wants to learn a trick, follow me!"

With an annoyed sigh Leon picked up one of his bottles of wine that he enjoyed and brought it over to  Lumara after taking a swing. " Try this one. It has a mixture of sour that will make even you flinch!" He said with A chuckle."Cmon, lets gather some wood while we drink. You too, lightweight. Gotta have some use!" He said, lumping the other man one the back. Grabbing Lumara's axe he began walking through the woods again.

Joining Ambra and Zaino, Trin wringed her hands as she spoke. "Could you both help me hunt? I can kill from a distance with magic, bit bows are a bit quieter.... plus Zaino looks like he knows how to trap, at least."

"Release."

=THEME=

"Hmm?" Xanxus looked down at the person who had intervened, who had intercepted his attack with a partially-drawn sword (similar depiction of the scene). The person, emitting a malevolent yet faint red aura, was left-handed and their entire right arm was adorned in an armor plating down to their hand, where they wore a gauntlet, donning a mask over their face in anonymity. He tilted his head, wondering just where this person had appeared from; it certainly wasn't one of the soldiers that he'd slain earlier.

The person proceeded to draw their sword completely and posed to strike, prompting Xanxus to do the same as they both went in for a quick attack before they both stepped back to face one another. The lower half of the person's mask from the nose down fell off as a cut, planted on the person's left cheek, showed itself, a single trickle of blood trailing down their face. It was then that he saw that part of his clothing at his right arm had been cut as well, though not deep enough to break skin. This person's movements had been similar, if not, almost identical to his own; just who is this?

With Parnell simply standing back and watching the two, Xanxus saw that the corners of the other person's mouth rose to form the ghost of a sinister grin, seeing the aura begin to swirl around their right arm and gathering in intensity at their hand. Even from where he was standing, he could feel the person's killer intent slowly rising as the energy around their arm continued to manifest itself, raising it at him. Magic?

As a stream of lightning generated from their hand and roared towards Xanxus, he stepped to the left to dodge the magic. Did this person really think they could hit me with their magic upfront? Though, before he even landed on his two feet, the person had already charged and attacked from that direction as if they had known that he would move there beforehand. He brought up the Iron Sword to counter the person's strike, finding himself on the defensive as the person attacked continuously. When his sword met theirs once more, he forced the person's sword to the ground to throw his opponent off balance and lunged, only to find his attack seen right through and deflected with an unseen reaction time.

In frustration, Xanxus sought to take the offensive; he was not inclined on allowing the person's luck to continue any further. He did not hesitate for a single breath during the next series of attacks, surrounding the person at such a high speed as if he were gliding, and aiming to overwhelm them by striking continuously in all directions.

The sound of metal clanging had grown loud enough to travel throughout the throne room, evident that the person was still deflecting each and every attack of his as if they were nothing, and could see through all of his movements, though he could tell that the person was mildly struggling to keep up. Using this to his advantage, he applied strength into one powerful slash and pulled his arm back, swinging upward at their right. The person hadn't had the time to use their sword to block it, and surprisingly enough, brought up their right arm to shield themselves.

The armor surrounding the limb had managed to sustain the attack, though large cracks had begun to form around the location of the blade. The person seized the opportunity of Xanxus stopping momentarily to channel another spell, pushing the blade to the side and directing it their enemy. Xanxus leapt back as a column of fire, aimed for his feet, erupted from their hand and singed the floor of the throne room. For a moment, Xanxus could still see the person's figure beyond the flames, still grinning. "I've had fun here, Uncle. I believe I understand the message you wish to send to Darrian; I suggest you prepare your armies."

---

Xanxus kept his arms folded as he slowed his horse to join Darrian, still quietly fuming in anger over the memory of the inconclusive duel. Had he not been carrying out official business, he would've taken the time to kill both his opponent and Parnell where they stood, then. He was furious over how he had allowed himself to be forced on the defensive at the beginning, and when he was able to shift into the offensive, the person did not relent on solidifying their defense. When he had returned to the camp hours after and went to report to Darrian, he had strangled one of the Ylissean soldiers to death in his frustration right in front of Lantus and his friend. He was angry enough to bury the entire Plegian wasteland in sand, along with all of its people. "What do you want?"

---

Zaino was still confused about why Ambra sounded embarrassed, deciding not to concern himself any further on the matter and laying back into the tree. He was exhausted, and he didn't want to re-open any of his wounds a second time; he felt uncomfortable during the times that Ambra had to readjust the bandages, and even then, he was still suspicious of her intentions. Keeping his sword by his side, he sighed, shutting his eyes in hopes of letting his mind drift away into the comforting vestige of sleep...

"... Plus Zaino looks like he knows how to trap, at least."

It was the same woman from the inn who'd offered food, and the same one who'd also offered their sword for him to use. Though Zaino was too tired to visibly display any hostility, he simply looked at the woman and shook his head after looking down at his bandages; not because he didn't know how to trap animals, but because he wouldn't make it far after suffering from having no food or water for days.

It was strange that only now, he could feel the dryness of his mouth and the violent rumbling of his stomach as he and his body refused to cooperate with one another. Once he had some food and water in his system and he rested a bit, Zaino intended on continuing to keep his distance from these people and keeping an eye out for any more pursuers.

Talbot continued to sing softly about the man in the moon, gazing up at the dark sky. Now that he was slightly away from the fire, he realized it was freezing. He bound his cloak more tightly around himself, eyes watching the sky some more. He named the constellations that he found sprinkled across the backdrop of black right off of the bat. The black haired man could be a little childish at times, but at least he was able to lay back and relax a little bit. His brown eyes continued to scan the void above them, frowning a bit. There were no clouds, which meant no rain. That was a bad sign a bad sign indeed. He opened his mouth and looked to the side when…

He realized that the woman sharpening her weapon had fallen asleep. A ghost of a smile twitched across his face, and he sighed. Perhaps he was feeling a bit… tired too. Even he yawned, and he covered it with the back of his hand. His arm was bothering him a little bit, but he didn’t pay it any heed. Rubbing his nose, he thought about lying down and going to sleep as well. To dream about sugarplums and fairies, and pegasi doing backflips in a cottony cloud sky. Talbot smiled again and closed his eyes, sighing as he felt himself starting to slip into a shallow slumber.

"Talbot, Vellia, could you both assist me by the river?"

Groaning in confusion, he opened his eyes and watched the man walk toward the small stream he had decided to camp by. Talbot wanted to sleep, not to go and train. Maybe in the morning when their wounds were still healing. But all he felt like doing was passing out. Yawning again, he sat up and ran his hand through his hair, brushing off his hat before snatching it off of the ground. His bleary brown eyes watched the older man and he opened his mouth to let another yawn escape. But… Neo had to have something in him that Talbot didn’t know yet. He was a grandmaster. He turned to Vellia and shook her, trying for a moment to wake her, before he got up.

”What’s the matter?” he questioned, slumping a bit. His expression was alert even though his body was not. ”What sort of tricks do you have? I mean, I can cast a good Arcfire and Thoron, but that tires me out. For weaker enemies I resort to weaker spells, like a mere Wind or Fire. Maybe even Elthunder.” he was just trying to make light conversation, his curiosity getting the best of him and making him stand straight as a stick.

---

Lumara grinned at Tihlas and let out a chuckle. So this man knew what he was drinking. Yet the flush on his cheeks was still there as he drank more from the second flask. The blond patted her draconic pet, who had fallen asleep curled around her. His tail was on her lap, and the weight was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable on her thighs, so she moved his tail and sighed. ”That’s still the good stuff. Not the crap some people call drink when it’s mostly water.” she smirked smartly at him, and moved her hand to the second last flask she had. She could get them refilled at the next town. There just had to be drink in one of those places.

She tossed the flask at his feet, the third one that she gave him. Her eyes were sharp and cold as a steel sword as she glanced up at him. ”That’s all you’re getting from me. I don’t have much left and I need to make it last until we reach other civilizations.” Lumara snapped, returning to drinking from her flask before a broad, strong man came over and handed her a bottle. She noted that he was that man from the battle who was with the blue haired woman and that other man. Taking the bottle, she looked it over. ”That’s for me to decide.” a swig later, she smacked her lips and narrowed her eyes. ”Not the flavor I expected from wine. What’s it made of?”

Then the man decided that he was going to go and collect firewood. With her axe. ”Hey!” she cried, standing up and glowering after him. He had some nerve..! She was almost as old as him as well, and yet she didn’t get any respect. Caius grumbled a beasty sigh and raised his head, looking at her with an annoyed face. She pouted and crossed her arms before climbing on Caius and strapping herself down. ”Wait up for me! Come on, Tilhas Lightweight.” she smirked over her shoulder as Caius strode behind Leon, sniffing at his butt. She sure hoped he bit it. He green eyes closed again as she took another swig from the wine bottle.

”There’s a log.” she motioned toward a piece of wood on the floor, and grinned. ”Get it for me?”

---

Darrian glanced at Xanxus and scowled deeply. His eyes watched him carefully before he edged Morningstar on, his nose wrinkling in disappointment. Yet, he said nothing for a very long while. There were butterflies in his stomach, but not because of love or passion. No. They were the bad butterflies, the ones that made you want to punch a wall. Or maybe it was just him? He looked ahead, and then, once again, spoke. ”I cannot say how disappointed I am in you, Xanxus.” he told him, his hands tightening around the reigns. ”There is a reason I sent you. I could have sent that bag of bones Lantus instead. He would have done better than you. Beaten by a complete stranger!” he scoffed, his brows furrowing deeper.

Morningstar huffed with the effort of carrying the iron and clod clad man that was upon his back. All he had done was whip him and kick him, and not a drop of water was spared for the poor black steed. He drooled openly, eyes wild as his nostrils flaring as he staggered. He whinnied, making Darrian mutter something under his breath. And then, the horse keeled over, dead from starvation and thirst. Darrian got trapped beneath Morningstar. He cried out a curse and dragged himself from beneath the corpse of his once true blooded steed, eyes wide and shocked. Some of his men dismounted and went over to him, but he held up a hand. ”Get away from me!” he screeched. The men nodded stiffly after a moment of hesitation and turned back to their own horses.

Huffing and poofed looking, he spun toward Xanxus, who was still on his white mount. He was not going to walk. Not with his cloak and his clothes and not in this cold weather. He supposed that this would be a form of punishment for Xanxus as well, but he was always wary about scolding both him and Lantus. They weren’t people to be pushed around much. Especially not Xanxus. ”Give me your damn horse.” he demanded. His eyes were wild much like his horse’s had been, and he was tense and shivering with anger.

It was sort of amusing, seeing him dressed up and sandy and trembling. It was like he was a dog with no bite, a mere mongrel. Yet, he wasn’t a mere mutt. He was the Exalt, and he expected the soldier to give him his mount.

Vellia hadn't been asleep five minutes when she thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn't wake initially. Instead it took Tal shaking her a bit for her to awake. She stuttered a few meaningless syllables and searched for the reason she had been brought out of her sleep. She saw the figure of a man she had seen in the earlier battle, and she stumbled to her feet, strapping her sword and axe on and following Talbot as he approached the other man.

"Wha-what's going on?" Vellia stammered, doing her best to not sound sleepy, but knowing she failed at the attempt.

"So be it..." Said Tihlas in return to the woman's snappy comment, wasn't any need for her to give him any in the first place. Before she could grab the third flask back he took it and started drinking from it. He'd only taken a couple drinks when another man walked over and tossed the woman what was apparently a bottle of wine, which she seemed to like the taste of. {b]"Oh, for the love of... I'm not a damn lightweight!"[/b] He said, irritated at the fact that they were giving him such a nickname.

He followed after them, despite how he felt, since it was better than sitting in place and doing nothing. That certainly wouldn't help him to gain the others' trust. He couldn't help but chuckle, though, at the man taking the woman's axe to use for shopping wood and her indignant cry at the action. He couldn't help but feel a little left out, for some reason, as he watched the woman enjoying the wine. Tihlas shook his head, and finished off the last little bit in the flask, hooking it onto his waist when he was done. He also couldn't help but smirk at woman woman's words, obviously directed at the man who took her axe.

She had a truly massive headache at the moment, and she felt dizzier than ever. Yet, she had a massive hunger- she did not have time to devour Trina's meal when she offered it. Scratching at the bloodied bandage, she looked out from between some dead date palm leaves and down at the floor. There had been a larger beast than lizards and rattlesnakes just before, and much more... pleasant to look at when it would be roasting on a spit. A sandcat. Small, yes, but fluffy and plump. If everyone shared, then everyone would be able to go to bed with a small cut of the prize. Of course, it was basically nothing. But something was better than nothing.

Ambra blinked away her blurry vision as she strung an arrow, and looked back down at the ground. It had been padding around here, she had tracked it to this location. It was headed away from the camp, knowing that, if it were to get too close, it would be made into a snack. Well, too late now. She watched and watched, until a rustle and the sound of cracking twigs caught her attention.

Ambra stayed relatively still as she watched the pale cat slink out from the dead foliage. It blinked its brown eyes and sniffed the air. It suspected. But Ambra was smart. She had made sure to position herself downwind before attempting to have a good angle at the beast. The animal scented no enemies, and simply continued on its merry way.
Before it could take more than a few pawsteps, an arrow was in its throat. The poor thing suffered from the blow, and the kill was not clean. It screamed, and Ambra cursed. Great. She should not have tried something like this if she was not feeling well... now it would scare away all of the prey and attract unwanted visitors. She slipped from the tree and landed clumsily on her feet, and rushed to it. Pulling out a small blade, she slit its throat and ended its suffering. The warm blood flowed over her hands, and she wiped them on her clothes, staining them bright red. Ugh. She wouldn't be able to skin this. She was lightheaded and even the sight of animal blood was almost enough to make her pass out...

"Ambra? Are you alright?" Alicia emerged from the trees, clutching a bloody spear while dragging a sack filled with meat inside. She had also been out hunting, and had speared a boar for her efforts, although not without a struggle, as she was bleeding from a number of small cuts from narrow shaves with the boar's tusks. The blond looked at Ambra's face and down to the dead cat before blinking. "...Need some help with that?" She asked as she knelt down next to Ambra and moved to take the knife from her hands.

Ambra perked at a voice, looking up at the woman that approached. She was blond and blue eyed, a familiar sight. She offered her friend a weary smile and rubbed at her bandaged head once more. I should have let Zaino fix the bandages. I mean, it's really uncomfortable! she thought as she rubbed more at the wound. Her head felt swollen... "Yeah, I'm okay... I-I can do it, don't worry. I just felt... dizzy... for a second." she turned back to the poor thing and began to skin back its pelt. If she gathered enough of these, she would be able to make a very fine blanket.

Alicia frowned at the bandage on Ambra's head and bit her lip. Well, she'd have to apologize sooner or later, so it might as well be now. "Ambra, I..." She looked down, appearing rather uncomfortable. "I'm sorry that I didn't help you sooner, back in the capital. I should've noticed that you were injured, instead of fighting that captain and, well, talking to Prince Laius." Alicia ran a hand through her hair, still looking apologetic.

The words confused her at first. She didn't know what she was talking about, but as she went on, she frowned. "It's okay, really. I... don't get noticed easily." she chuckled, a strained smile flicking across her face. Alicia had always been a good friend, giving her advice and helping her in times of dire need. Alicia was very concerned at the state of health she was in now, but she had to find a way not to make her stress over a head wound. "He's cute by the way," she teased her playfully, shakily skinning the sandcat. "Nice blond hair and very intriguing eyes. I saw him before I blacked out."

Alicia blinked, but only the slightest bit of red appeared on her face, barely noticeable. "Well, if you feel that way, feel free to try your luck with him." She said with a completely straight face. "One less bit of competition for that swordsman." She folded her arms, a smirk appearing on her face. "What was his name...Zaino, was it?'

Ambra grinned more naturally now, until she started to mention that swordsman. She flushed out of embarrassment and shock at her words. "I... have no idea what you're talking about." every time she saw his face, she felt butterflies. Oh, no, not the sort of "lovey dovey" butterflies. The ones that came with the thought of explaining the process of intercourse and how the baby came out of a woman. She flushed more and averted her look to the cat again, which was now completely skinned. She cut off the unfavorable parts and buried them promptly, becoming quiet.

"Of course you don't." Alicia smiled, hefting her Killer Lance over her shoulder. "Quite the romantic story you two have, really. You nurse him back to health, you get injured, he does the same for you. I'm jealous, really. It's rather cute." The blond stood up, giving somewhat of a bittersweet look. "All I really had to look forward to was the knowledge that I'd be married off to a noble house, before all this happened. Oh, Father would have let me choose my suitor, but that would have just been choosing the best of the worst. At least you're free to go after anyone you wish, regardless."

"B-but, I'm a healer! I'm supposed to heal him." Ambra countered, falling silent when the Pegasus Knight spoke more. It had to be sad, spending your days as a noble woman. Your father would arrange a marriage and you would be forced to marry said person. But Alicia had been lucky. She had a choice. Other women... not so much. "I don't like Zaino. He's a good warrior and all, but his temper is as large as his bite." she took the carcass and hooked it on to her belt, from which swung snake and lizard corpses. Whatever Alicia had in that bag looked more appetizing than this..

"I'm sure." Alicia deadpanned, dragging her own bag along. "And that red on your face is from the heat, no doubt." She shrugged, starting to move back towards their camp. "But I suppose I'll let you off easy today. At least Bellerophon hasn't tried to kick you yet."

Ambra offered her friend a smile. Adjusting the dead reptiles on her waist, she followed Alicia. "I don't know what's wrong with your pegasus. I always bring him carrots and apples and all he does is try and kill me!" she huffed with the effort of catching up. "And I bet we can make a delicious meal out of the things we caught. Make a roasted sandcat and some rattlesnake stew and maybe some horned lizard kebabs!" she pressed her fingers to her lips and kissed them, much like a chef would do. "A meal fit for a king!"