The devastation from three weeks prior was still evident judging by the faint outlines of trees standing broken and lonely in the gloom. They were still eerie reminders of the battle and those who had fought in it, and if the girl closed her eyes, she could recall the scene clearly as if it had passed not a night ago. At least Rosalie wasn’t alone in this part of the forest and she didn’t have to walk the distance herself. Instead of talking as Gore made the walk down the battlefield, she watched him with a frown, feeling like she could burn holes through the back of his head if she stared long enough. It brought back feelings of anger at her failure to get the information from Glenn and it was this winged lizard’s fault! Was his sword still around here? Perhaps not, but she was content to entertain herself with the thought.

As soon as she was set down on the ground, Rosalie found a nice little spot to sit in, tucking her knees in close against her chest. “I’ve got a question...” Rosalie would start when it grew too quiet. She would ask him a few things related to the past, but the question she wanted to know for the night was whether he enjoyed killing people the way he did. Walking through the old site had prompted the question. “Do you feel any regret knowing that many of those hunters had families to return to?” Her eyes narrowed on him, “Many of the kids were too young to understand that their mother or father or both weren’t coming back.” 

Of course, it would get darker and the darker it got, the more anxious she became. She had sent Sigmund a message earlier, hoping that he would get Eric to accompany him, and as there was no reply to indicate whether or not he was making his way towards the outskirts of town, she was starting to wonder if it was better that she wait or fetch him herself. 
The atmosphere was relatively calm - which was a good thing as that meant that the residents had not spotted the crimson legend’s approach amongst the dark backdrop of the sky. It was also starting to become a lot cooler now that the sun was setting itself to rest and to keep warm, the girl would rub her arms every now and then. With every minute that passed and as it got darker, she was half tempted to march into Kalandor herself. If she were to do that, though, would she miss the brothers along the way? Rosalie hummed in thought, glancing back to Gore for a few seconds. What orders should she give him? 

Her gaze fell to ground, the girl mumbling, “where are they?..” How long were they going to leave her alone with a dragon who clearly disliked technology? It was not much of a problem to her, but the way he referred to it as merely toys used to prod people and claim lives without a fair fight did not sit too well with her. Technology, if used right, could save lives. Sure, magic does the same, but what happens if one was clearly unable to use it? All they were doing was adapting to survive in a world where ideas shaped the everyday. Gore could reminisce all he wanted about the olden days as long as he wasn’t blinded by it. Those days were history. You would only hear about those true tales of honour and valour in old textbooks or even story books. Today? Few people have the courage and wit sharper than a blade. As long as she was interested in him, and believed that she would get something out of her investment, Rosalie would make him see that and guide him.. to an extent.

She stifled a yawn as she started to rub her eyes. Whenever Gore had stopped to rest on the way here, Rosalie would stretch after sitting so stiffly in the saddle. She really wasn’t used to it and she felt strange; like she was almost floating despite being firmly planted on the ground. It must no doubt be from being in the air for almost a whole day added with the inability to relax around Gore. Rosalie was always sitting upright, always watching him warily. Since the dragon had not done anything to harm her -yet- the girl really was beginning to wonder if she had wasted her time and energy being so on edge like that. 
Her phone flashed and she glanced down momentarily, chuckling tiredly as she put it away. “Anyway.. The two that I wanted you to meet are a bit strange, but you interest them a fair bit. They’re not hunters or anything like that.” she added, smirking lightly, “no.. of course not. The reason why I was staying at Desdemona was because they had heard the auction was going to take place there. Hmm.. ‘the crimson legend is bound to have a new owner. Would you get us some pictures as a souvenir?’ was what they had said.” The girl then huffed, “how, then, would you greet two people wandering through the dark, I wonder. I’d like to see that, Gore, but.. be sensible about it... don’t let them run off. That’s your task. You’ll know them when you see them.” By this time, as tired as she was, Rosalie’s mind would always drift and wander from the dragon to the two brothers, and then to something that would fill her stomach. Hunger was gnawing at her and all she wanted now was to make herself a big meal. Perhaps she might be able to scoff everything down. At the thought, she covered her stomach with her arms, afraid that it would growl in front of the dragon as consequence for refusing to eat what he had made for her. “I wonder how long it’d take them to get here..,” she grumbled to herself.