It wasn’t the most pleasant song to listen to, but compared to Lazarus’ nagging it was a blessed reprieve and Willo wasn’t all that bad of a singer either. Between the soft, if somber, song and the calm waters, Ramone was quite tempted to fall asleep. Unfortunately they weren’t far from their destination and would have to disembark soon. With a quiet grunt, he tipped his hat backwards and out of his face as he stood to stretch.
Alongside his teammates and teacher, he stepped onto the old ramp and clicked his tongue as the wood creaked ominously under their weight. Then again, its state of disrepair could hardly be faulted with how often it must have received maintenance and care. He put it out of mind for the moment to focus on what Lazarus had to say to them. The castle that loomed in the distance, concealed by the darkness of night, was impossible to miss. An annoyed click of his tongue was the extent of his reaction to their assignment. His fighting style and equipment was ill-suited for interiors, but it wasn’t like Lazarus gave a shit.
“Let’s get on with it,” he muttered as he shrugged his shoulders, shifting the pack he carried. It held enough supplies for almost a week, if stretched, and he sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t take that long.