[hr][hr][h3][b][i][center][color=a187be]Kyra [/color] & [color=82ca9d]Sana[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h3]
[center][b][color=a187be]Location:[/color][/b] Leaving The Battle Field
[b][color=a187be]Interacting With:[/color][/b] In General
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~[/center]

	Sana curled up in the back of the wagon as Kyra climbed into the driver seat. Ash jumped into the back and curled around Sana, letting her use him as a make shift pillow; his body heat would help keep her warmer than if she was just piled beneath layers of blankets and furs. 

	Sana felt like she had gone through the ringer. She knew she needed to explain why they needed to make haste but her throat still felt like it was on fire with molten gravel. So she lay there, trembling slightly, as she tried to figure out in as few words as possible to tell them what they needed to know. 

	Thankfully, with or without explanation, people seemed to be getting their acts together and ready to move out but it didn't seem fast enough for Kyra. Whatever happened to Cremwise she didn't have a clue and she wasn't about to wait around to find out. Their resident Elf had already taken off, another seemed keen on leaving without them, heading north instead. She wasn't going to blame them. People had things to do, living was one of them and right then it seemed that the path that Kyra needed to travel was south to ensure that Sana was able to heal. 

	[color=a187be]"Alright people, let's move out. Sana can explain on the way."[/color] Kyra's were short and too the point as she snapped the reins. Epona pulling forward slowly at first. The wagon not wanting to move through the mud created when the ice wall had suddenly melted but eventually the mare was able to get things under way and they were headed back through the forest towards the road and then back south to the village which they had left around half a week prior. 


	

[hr][hr][center][h3][b][i]Three Days Ahead - In Salarn[/i][/b][/h3]~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~[/center]

	The wench nodded at his order but she nearly back handed him as he laid hands on her to stop her. Her eyes shooting dagger as she yanked her arm away. Looking towards the one he was asking about she nodded. "Yeah, that's him," she stated flatly before turning and walking off. 

	He didn't seem to be the only one drinking himself to an early grave but he was the only one that looked to have an air of guilt surrounding him instead of just drinking to forget the hard times or to not feel anything. It was a sad state of affairs to be in at any age, on the elderly it was just down right pathetic. 

	Coming back the wench set down a mug of mead and bowl of stew. Neither were anything particularly special in their craftsmanship of culinary fashion but there was far worse fare in the world. Each was hearty and had a pleasant enough taste. It would get a person through the day and they would not gag nor cringe while consuming.