Daesha walked fluidly through the forest, each step graceful, and measured. In her wake, she left no trace, no sound. Her very form seemed hard to capture, moving like water, her soft, yet supple armor, dyed the color of the darkest midnight helped to further blur her form, seeming more like a shadow than a woman. Her eyes moved carefully, gliding from one direction to another, soaking in every bit of information as they scanned. Though her alertness did not end with inquisitive eyes. Her ears, sharp and clear took in every noise, picking them apart and dissecting them, and making her painfully aware of her more clumsy companions. Even her sense of touch and smell were active as she felt the vibrations run through the soft earth, and stayed alert for any smell that would alert her to something unnatural, such as the smell of a campfire. Her right hand remained on one of her short swords. They were weapons for any true killer. Their steel blades were tempered, and re-folded dozens of time, giving their curved edges, and fine points strength of the highest tier. Their handles we made from similar metal, forged and wrapped to fit her hands perfectly.

Rhea walked beside Daesha, though slightly behind. Her stride was confident and long, showing the experience of a seasoned traveler, and a veteran fighter. Her face remained rather expressionless, and she was calmly care-free, knowing Daesha would alert her to any trouble before it got too near. Every once in a while, a near-silent complaint would escape her lips, feeling annoyed. They were hired, for an extremely handsome sum, and sent on their way here, supposed to find and defeat another group of fighters. It felt pointless...But she wouldn't leave her companions...and the money helped ease her annoyance towards the seemingly pointless antics they were sent to incur. As she walked, her left hand remained on her Katana, which sat sheathed at her hip, hanging loosely. Her blades were her prized possessions, both masterfully crafted, and sharp enough to fell a tree with one clean stroke. She smiled as she thought back on all the times they had fought together, Vincent rushing in madly, always taking a few wounds, but dealing much, much worse, and how Lucien would work with her, opening someones defense, so she could dash in to deliver a lethal blow...How Daesha never seemed to be there, but somehow, people would fall over, their spines severed or hearts punctured. Then there was Iris, who would stand calmly next to Kage, firing arrows at anyone who left themselves open to their deadly tips, poisoned and otherwise...And most of all...Kage, Whirling around the battlefield, yet always close to Iris, his sword both his armor and Weapon as he wove dances that defied defense, and batted away attacks. She never understood him, but in truth, nobody truly did. They all trusted him, and respected him, just as he trusted and respected them...though he was still a mystery. She shook her head, her thoughts growing calm again as she trudged on.

Iris walked with a noticeable bound in her step, seeming to be the most energetic of the troupe, always energetic and kind. Everyone seemed to like her quite a lot, even Vincent, who was more likely to put his axe between someones eyes than shake their hand. She enjoyed the fair climate, and the shade provided by the trees. She smiled as she walked. Though she was shy around those she didn't know, she loved the company of her friends, who were all here...and in such a beautiful place...She couldn't think of anything that could sour her good mood.

Vincent trudged through the forest at the back of the troupe, each step heavy and powerful, leaving deep boot-prints, and against all odds, making noise an alarming amount of noise. He walked with his Great Axe in hand, slamming it into a tree every once in a while, purely out of boredom, leaving deep gashes in the bark and wood, sometimes even pulling out pieces of both as he pried his axe free in a single, easy motion. Even through the constant wear and abuse, the axe remained gleaming, it's edge razor sharp, ready to split a shield in two, or rend through flesh. From time to time, he found himself glancing around, to see if anything approached, itching for a fight, but he knew he wouldn't be able to harm an animal...And that was what he was probably going to attract, or scare away. As he trudged on, he looked up from staring at his feet, his eyes locking on to Iris, and his anger seemed to vanish...She had that effect on him. He smiled; a rare thing concerning Vincent, and a strange sight of his scar-covered face.

Lucien sighed. He wasn't enjoying this trek. He wore the heaviest armor, and his weapons and shield weren't getting any lighter. He was glad that the climate was at least cool. Had been any hotter, he probably wouldn't have made it past the first hour. Though he didn't openly complain, he could tell from the glances he kept getting that the others were at least sympathetic. Every job that had that required such rough traveling was hard on him, and they understood that, and tried to keep their pace slower. He shook his head, letting out another breathless sigh, using his spear as a walking staff, and powered onward.

Kage walked by Iris' side. He always had after what had happened on their last trip through Asia. She had nearly died at the hand of a Shinobi Warrior as the others fought the main force. It had been on intuition and instinct alone that Kage had been able to save her, having thrown his blade straight through the assailant's chest, severing his spine, and killing him instantly. He wasn't going to leave the next encounter to luck and intuition. Kage wore a simple black war robe, which flowed down to his ankles, the soft cloth rippling in the wind that swept through the trees. On the back was emblazoned a Silver Crescent Moon, and a Raven perched on it, also in silver. In his hand, he held his Katana, sheathed in it's black scabbard. He held it by the scabbard, right below the guard, pommel facing up and forward. The scabbard was of high quality metal, wrapped in silvery designs of a Dragon, long and elegant, stretching lazily along the length of the black metal scabbard, it's maw open around the top, as if to engulf the blade. The blade itself was of unmatched craftsmanship, its blade forged patiently over the course of months, by master sword-smiths. The hilt was of the same quality, though both are outwardly simple, save for the wolf etched into the blade, which seemed to run up along its length. Though he looked outwardly care-free, his step and stride matched that of Daesha's, while his paranoia and alertness seemed to almost surpass her own.

Soon after Dusk began to fall, they stopped, finding a small grove, the majority of the surrounding trees closely packed, and thick with flora and plant life. Kage took the first watch, and nobody questioned him. They all knew he wanted to be alone, so they promptly went to sleep, save for Daesha, who approached him, gaining a glance from him. She knew she had his attention, even though he stared off into the distance.

"I will take the second watch...Are you sure you are okay?" She asked, knowing what he was thinking about.

He nodded. "I'll be fine...Get some rest. I will wake you in a few hours." He said, his voice showing his true emotions; a deep sorrow. He didn't bother hiding it. Daesha understood him too well.

Daesha sighed, walking away. She knew she couldn't help him, though she wish she could. It made her feel as helpless and sad as he felt. After a few more minutes, she finally succumbed to a light, dreamless sleep.