Brother Fellwalker was quite envious of the Son of Russ, Moros. He wished, and if the company were not what it was he would have demanded, to be the scout of the group – though even he, as much a butcher as they come, could see sense in sending the Wolf Brother off on his hunt. Kaerell knew himself well enough to know that he'd sooner run off into the hordes swinging with perverse glee than do any sort of stealth and or subterfuge of note. It physically pained him to see the battles go on about them and yet not to be included in them, to see the epic piece battles against the most loathed of foes, to slay them and ensure their obliteration...Such would be as sweet a music to Kaerell as even the most verdant of pleasure worlds thrice over.

With reserved movements he followed the footsteps of the Iron-Hands Librarian, he'd grown to be fond of the man, if for no other reason than he seemed to go against the normal trend of Psykers having exploding heads and generally being warp-crazed sorcerers as opposed to the vaunted warriors that the Emperor wanted them to be. Kaerell had a, perhaps creepy, smile on his face as he followed the footsteps of the Psyker, he was as protective as he was willing to spill blood. A most dangerous concoction.

At the summit of the chasm, he stopped to bear witness to the spectacle of the Tau base. Finally, after the travels and the slaying, there was the sight of their true target. The Tau Shas'O commander, fearsome foe and pathetic Xenos alike. However, even he was not stupid enough to charge off a chasm into his doom, “I agree with the Apothecary, we should skirt around, all the better to take the foe by surprise.” His voice clearly bore some manner of excitement as his normally booming voice became almost sibilant, a sure sign – for whatever reason – that Brother Fellwalker was indeed most pleased about the situation... 

He gave only passive notification of the Wolf-Scout however, his mind too busy with the prospect of slaying the Tau once and for all.