[h3]Domhnall McRaith[/h3]

	They certainly were a curious lot, those people and the beast that traveled with them, perhaps even more so than they themselves. It had pretty much been a spur-of-the-moment decision (that had started to become a bit of a theme with him recently, had it not?), suggesting they stuck together until at least Zerul City, but at least this time it was a decision he had at least somewhat solicited with his companion, unlike his earlier one of intervening Claw and the grey brute's fight. Eh, but at least his intuition still worked. Often enough. [i]Sometimes,[/i] at least. (That was a lot of "at leasts.")
	In any case, it seemed safer to bet on a single group of stragglers who seemed mostly agreeable than to hope that every random bunch who came across them and their new friend would look upon them kindly. [i]"Safety in numbers,"[/i] as Iridiel had put it - better two big creatures, four humanoids, a wolf and whoever else these people had in store (it seemed from their talking that there was more of them back somewhere) than just the less than handful of them... Especially since he and Iridiel were not truly soldiers, Claw had refused healing, and it was only ever so often Sulis would lend her more destructive powers to her marked one (or so he had gathered). That dekkun-creature, though... Well, it would take a very specific kind of person to voluntarily pick a fight a fight with that one. Someone with brass balls ... and probably only half a brain. 
	It was quite concerning, then, that someone or something quite evidently [i]had.[/i] But, on a more positive note, whatever it had been, it had apparently also lost said fight.

	The worn-looking man atop the white horse rather laconically - in no small part probably due to his current physical condition - introduced himself as Aemoten, and the younger one, still looking concerned despite doing his best to smile at them, soon followed suit and offered a brief introduction accompanied by a rather elaborate bow. He identified himself as his squire Jaelnec - of "the Will", apparently, whatever organization this was supposed to be. In any case, the male éireannach had not heard of them before, so they probably were not quite as prominent as those thrice-damned Crusader-folks or those monster-hunter fellows they had come across in a couple of places. 
	While Domhnall was definitely not offended by being bowed to - he knew what general meaning bowing held in this region all right -, he was not entirely certain how to react to that kind of grand gestures, either. He was just a hunter (and out of necessity also trader of the wares he had acquired in this manner), after all. People typically did not tend to bow down to him, let alone with that level of animation. Iridiel at least had the relative comfort of sitting up a tree rather than standing right there before Jaelnec and Aemoten...
	"You're welcome," he replied with the first somewhat appropriate-seeming expression that came to his mind in order to avoid any awkward pauses, even as his one hand was absentmindedly lifted to his chin to scratch a spot on his cheek. Abruptly, he then turned to Iridiel, and roughly repeated the message to the woman. "[i]These are[/i] Aemoten [i]and [/i]Jaelnec -" the same hand he had earlier lifted to scratch his cheek was now used to refer to the people he was naming "- [i]they are thanking us for our aid and ... welcoming-ness, I guess?"[/i] His Rodorian was significantly better than Iridiel's, but even his skill with the language was on the level of "mostly functional" rather than "good". 
	Iridiel responded with little more than a brief nod to them all in acknowledgment of the information.

	Behind his back, he could hear Jaelnec addressing the other man, asking whether he should tell the others they would be staying for a while. The other sighed weakly - resignedly, perhaps -, and finally admitted, "I figure you'd have to. Just help me down here first." Probably a good idea; people who were barely capable of remaining seated generally did even worse at standing, let alone walking. 
	Provided that Jaelnec complied, Aemoten managed to clumsily slide down from the horse, and indeed had to resort to heavily leaning onto the other for support. It did not seem he even cared much where he was lead at this point, as long as it was far enough from the horses for the animals to not be able to accidentally step on him and he could reasonably comfortably assume a mostly-horizontal position. 
	Domhnall absentmindedly wiped the back of his hand over his bearded cheek (the same one he had scratched earlier; looked like an automatic effort to straighten it out than anything), and hesitantly followed along, unsure on whether he should offer any further aid or just stay back. (He [i]did,[/i] though, if asked to.) He also sent a sideways glance at the horses, idly wondering whether or not they would actually stick around riderless... Not that he had any particular desire to approach them and see whether he could tie them to a branch by their reigns or something. (With his luck, these would either try to bite him or at least purposefully step on his foot.)
	Once the foreign-looking man ad settled down, the forestfolk took seat nearby, casually pulling his shin atop of his opposite knee, leaving his hands resting on the side of his leg, and leaning back. 
	"Hope whatever you ran into this morning at least makes a good story for later," the male éireannach idly remarked.
	Aemoten, for one, did not even bother replying to this, either because he was too exhausted or did not want to respond. Only the corner of the man's mouth twitched a bit, though it remained unclear whether it was a random muscle-twitch or an actual reaction to words he heard. His eyes were closed, and for all intents and purposes it was briefly impossible to tell whether he was even conscious anymore. He was still breathing, though, if shallowly, so at least the was not dead. 
	"Try not to worry them too much," the man eventually managed to mutter, however - hopefully before the younger fellow had taken off. Apparently, he had not quite passed out yet, after all. "I'll be fine. Just ... rest. And wake me up ... in time for us to reach Zerul City before nightfall. And thank you." He lifted his one hand partway for a gesture of some description, but evidently gave up midway through and just let it limply drop to ground again. 
	Unless the younger guy had something else to ask, Domhnall just opted to leave them to their own devices for the time being. It was not like the evident leader of the lot was capable of holding much of a conversation at the time being, the younger one did not have other errands to take care of and Etakar ... he was not entirely sure how to even begin to approach that one. Probably could go back to fletching. Or offer to make tea once the rest of those people showed up, even though their original temporary fire pit was some ways off and the fire had been doused already. Sometimes it did not pay to be too proper, it turned out...