While it seemed to Ugnis that everyone in the world was far too mature, far more grim than necessary, he found that mercenaries tended to be the darkest of all. But that Taskmage guy? He was like a really cynical flower, shooting out pessimistic pollen to make everyone cry and sneeze. Everyone knew about how bad the world was; there wouldn't be mercenaries everywhere if it were good. But to say that it's all bad is a vast overstatement, one that pissed off Ugnis to no extent. [color=8dc73f][i]"That guy... why does he spend his time left in this 'doomed' world working for people that make it worse?"[/i][/color] he thought to himself, tilting his head upwards towards what little of the sky showed through the canopy, burying his anger as he always did. [i][color=8dc73f]"I'll invite him for tea the next time I see him."[/color][/i] Talking couldn't change someone like that, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't give it a try.

Ugnis sighed as he noticed the fatigued breaths. He stooped down and scooped up Mal, saying irritably, [color=8dc73f]"How does someone get so tired that they can't stand from a short fight like that?"[/color] It was going to be a pain trying to find an inn, since Mal was half-asleep and... well, Ugnis wouldn't be able to find one in the first place. Sighing again, Ugnis plopped down beside Mal. [color=8dc73f]"Anyways, my name's Ugnis C'zair. If you think you're awake enough to find an inn, I'll be fine with carrying you to it."[/color] It'd help if someone could direct them, but Ugnis didn't hear anyone nearby.