Hearing Ashielle's report to Duraid as he carried the grocery bags with his pegasus, Barst couldn't suppress the shiver of fear that ran through his body. That didn't sounds like Vinsenia. That sounded like a demonic horde. To be fair, it might as well have been. Ever since their new king had taken the throne, the western-most nation of the Vale had changed. The most noticeable change, of course, was the campaign of conquest their forces now marched on. He'd already seen the dark side of a battle against Vinsenia, and he wasn't keen on witnessing it again. Bringing the supplies over to where they needed to be, the archer couldn't help but notice Ereshk sitting on a stump, breath ragged and head in his hands. Walking over, he clasped the mage's shoulder in his hand. 

"Don't worry, bud. You're doin' alright. Boss man just wants you to be a little tougher. Trust me, it ain't a walk in the park, but it'll get easier. This time around, I'll be helping out the whole trip. Just...do your best, alright? I knew a recruit like you back in Caldegia. Kid wanted so badly to be a pegasus knight. It was heartbreaking when he'd screw up a formation and get his ass chewed out by the commanders. But at the same time, every night, he'd go to bed with fire in his eyes."

Suddenly, Barst's face dropped. "He was killed a week into the invasion. Didn't die a hero's death, no valiant last stand. But the year or two he was a knight were the best times of his life. He'd made a goal, he'd worked at it and he succeeded. But he never gave up. I can't speak for anybody else around camp, but as long as you can honestly say you're trying, you'll always have a friend and a supporter in me. Now get yer ass up...we got groceries to buy." Flashing a decisive smile, he stood firmly in front of Ereshk and offered his hand.