Nat nodded and hesitantly followed Darlith. He had ambiguous thoughts about the elven woman. She seemed like an intelligent person, though humble, like she was actually trying to hide from somebody. Nat thought she could have retained her intelligence, however, still develop a paranoia on being hunted. The sellsword even started thinking if he wasn't cleverly manipulated into becoming her personal guard. [i]"I need to know whether she was lying about knowing my mother. If she didn't lie about that, there's no reason to lie about being hunted by Fusos."[/i] As if she read Nat's mind, though with her back turned, Darlith asked "How much do you know of your mother?"

The question seemed out of the blue and strange, so it startled Nat for a few moments. He asked himself again [i]"How much DO I know of my mother?[/i] As sad as it was, he actually knew close to naught. He looked for her over 20 years and he could barely remember how she looked. Not her hair and eyes, however. He would not forget those ever. Ash-white hair and the little bit darker eyes. It was quite unusual for a person to have his hair and eye color match and by these two traits, Nat could always tell if a person was lying to him. He also knew that his mother left their home to travel to the capital. Nat knew she was married to the commander of his old mercenary company. He heard that she later on took disguise as a priest. He learned what his name meant and why was he given it.

But his mother was still, metaphorically speaking, a day's road ahead of him. He could always grasp some clues. He would hear some rumors. But when the sellsword checked them, all of them were already cold. Waking up from the thoughts, that Darlith's question put him to, he slowly answered "I know much of her, though not her goals or location." At the same time he thought [i]"Which means I know nothing of her."[/i] 

He would have continued the topic, but Darlith spotted wagon tracks merging into their road from another path. Nat was impelled to examine them as she asked if that was the same wagon from yesterday. The half-elf had quite some tracking skills from his days in the mercenary company as he would periodically scout for them. It didn't take long for him to notice that these tracks were far less deep than the ones he followed into the city. The wheels seemed of different thickness two, though he wasn't sure. "I... I'm not so sure" Nat mumbled "This is not the same one. What I mean is, unless they dumped half of their passengers this cannot be the same wagon. The track's are deep enough for three people at most if they were unarmed." he then stood up and walked around, looking for something in the forests around the path. "This might be the same people, however, that took a different wagon to create a decoy for Fusos' men. If so, somewhere here must be tracks of their followers. They're not on the path, though." Nat told everything he could make up on the spot.