---

Rolan weathered Gertrude's gaze with a steady one of his own as she agreed to his request, which would certainly make things even more interesting for the upcoming fight. He had never been fond of fighting from horseback, too many things to track at the same time between guiding and monitoring the horse, navigating the battlefield while keeping such in mind, and making accurate shots all the while. That and horses never seemed to like him terribly much, even under the best of circumstances. With that in mind, having someone else handling the riding part, or in this case flying, should be much more agreeable while he focused on the Hunt below them, assuming the Hunt lacked means of reaching them which would be a dangerous thing to assume. What surprised him was the rare bit of honesty admitting he was the least annoying among the knights thus far, and he shrugged briefly in an almost 'what can you do' sort of gesture.

"Thank you, I shouldn't have to ask you to fly into anything particularly dangerous."

Ser Renar took the time to approach them, speaking in a lowered tone that Rolan would match when the time came to speak up. Planning ahead in case Tyaethe was found wanting in being able to fell Rozenalt in single combat, smart, though he already had several bolts prepared for the explicit purpose of leveling the playing field. He didn't expect poisons to work to the same extent on members of the Hunt as he did his typical foes, well, typical before the last few months. However, given these were his most potent mixtures he hoped, fortune willing, they would have enough of an effect to slow Rozenalt should the need arise. Gertrude spoke up first, a rare bit of serious and direct talk from her, though not without taking metaphorical shots at Tyaethe. Something about enchanting their weapons as well, though Rolan would not take any chances with trusting anything outside his control, at best it would improve the odds he had in punching through weak points in armor.

"Agreed and well ahead of you for once, Ser Renar. Several bolts have already been prepared for hobbling our target should the opportunity arise. With Gertrude's help in maintaining the high ground, I'll have the rare luxury to make that shot count, so fortune willing I'll see it done."

---

Perhaps one of the things that most ingratiated Fionn to the various fey he had met in his days was the way he had maintained his sense of wonder at the world around him, despite long since having grown out of the childhood where it was expected. Even when the fey themselves were something he was comfortable and familiar with, wherever his natural curiosity and delight at his experiences came out, it—at the very least—seemed to entertain them. The wide-eyed gaze that he faced the hulking crow-man with as a blade materialized out of the air was simply an obvious, outward expression of such.

He reverently took the offered hilt, stepping back and twirling the raven-black blade in a short moulinet just to feel the weight of it. How the balance felt, compared to what he was used to, how he may have to adjust on the fly; already, he was accounting for the comparitive lack of a guard, the sword barely having a bolster to help keep his hand from sliding up to the edge on a thrust. The pommel was little more than a faint, knob-like swell at the end of the grip, not the large, weighty ring that ensured he'd never not feel the alignment of his edge, that had long since shown its worth in breaking bones and shattering teeth of those who thought they could get inside his guard...

With a grin, he unclasped his sword and sheathe from his belt, holding it back out towards Súileabhán. "I understand your misgivings, but I'll make sure this isn't wasted. In return, I'd like it if you'd watch over my blade until I can return this to you." He glanced over at the Moonlit Queen just off to the side. "Not indefinitely, mind. I am rather attached to that sword, like how Súileabhán doesn't like lending this to me. Call it collateral, if you like, but I am entrusting it to your safe keeping."

Only as a temporary loaner or not, getting to use such a fine blade was still a princely gift. It was only fitting to return some trust to them.

Without another moment to spare, his hair resumed its natural hue, the cohort standing once more in the altogether more normal forest that they were used to. He didn't have long to consider much of a plan, though, before a diminutive head with flaming yellow eyes claimed his full field of vision. And his face grew hot. Almost uncomfortably so, even, like his pale skin was about to start burning...

"Cad é mar atá tú?" he asked, resisting the urge to pull away to avoid any excess heat. He didn't want to appear impolite, after all, certainly not to Feinyar hovering just before his nose. "Cad is ainm duit? Is mise Fionn."