The ride to their destination was long but not entirely unpleasant. He had grown more used to horses since leaving the wild woods, and considered himself to be quite an accomplished rider. The way in which the Lizardwoman rode was quite, amusing. But her race was an old one, and his respect kept any perhaps unhelpful comments in check. The other elf rode far too well, and Thirodaen suspected that she was cheating.
In regards to his companions, he was usually quite interested in what they said, and replied courteously, if curtly. Trust was a two-way relationship, and only a fool shut himself off from any to whom he may owe his life. It was highly, highly unlikely, of course, but there was a first time for everything. He needed to learn about how they fought, anyway.

Upon their arrival, Thirodaen was secretly glad that someone knew how to take charge. Otherwise, they usually turned to him, and despite how little he admitted it, that never ended well. When the dwarf spoke to him, the noise grated on his ears, and he winced slightly, but smiled back nine the less. How could you not, the little thing was so cute. "I would be more than happy to shoot people. I think I do it quite well. Don't make me have to come down [i]there[/i] to help you though. Blood goes everywhere when I have to use this," He gestured to his glaive, "It takes an age to wash out. It is fun though." The dwarf would certainly make an eager ally, if his attitude stayed the same, and if he wasn't always drunk. So far, he liked him. It probably won't last, and he definately won't show it.