On her return to the campsite, she first noticed the motion of the place. Servants and soldiers alike were already packing up their tents and bedrolls, some more sourly than others. A handful of other fires had been lit, likely in preparation for the morning meal, while a few of the more perky underlings were gathering ice and snow to melt into water or unloading stored provisions from their packs and mounts. She drew more than a few curious looks as she passed, the sight of a beautiful woman hauling two hundred pounds of deer carcass tends to attract attention, though no one approached her to investigate.

Sykia heard her name mentioned a few times, more often as she approached the prince's tent site; he must have offered up a cover story for why there was a stranger in the camp's midst. No one seemed to be speaking ill of her, leaving the dragon with the sense that the people were more curious than defensive towards her. Kendrick was leaning against a pitched pole as his servants packed up his tent and belongings, casually sharpening a skinning knife as she approached. His eyes fell on her, then her kill and he nodded approvingly, signalling for her to bring it over to a makeshift table a few paces from the fire she had re-lit earlier.