Talbot continued to sing softly about the man in the moon, gazing up at the dark sky. Now that he was slightly away from the fire, he realized it was freezing. He bound his cloak more tightly around himself, eyes watching the sky some more. He named the constellations that he found sprinkled across the backdrop of black right off of the bat. The black haired man could be a little childish at times, but at least he was able to lay back and relax a little bit. His brown eyes continued to scan the void above them, frowning a bit. There were no clouds, which meant no rain. That was a bad sign a bad sign indeed. He opened his mouth and looked to the side when… He realized that the woman sharpening her weapon had fallen asleep. A ghost of a smile twitched across his face, and he sighed. Perhaps he was feeling a bit… tired too. Even he yawned, and he covered it with the back of his hand. His arm was bothering him a little bit, but he didn’t pay it any heed. Rubbing his nose, he thought about lying down and going to sleep as well. To dream about sugarplums and fairies, and pegasi doing backflips in a cottony cloud sky. Talbot smiled again and closed his eyes, sighing as he felt himself starting to slip into a shallow slumber. [i] "Talbot, Vellia, could you both assist me by the river?"[/i] Groaning in confusion, he opened his eyes and watched the man walk toward the small stream he had decided to camp by. Talbot wanted to sleep, not to go and train. Maybe in the morning when their wounds were still healing. But all he felt like doing was passing out. Yawning again, he sat up and ran his hand through his hair, brushing off his hat before snatching it off of the ground. His bleary brown eyes watched the older man and he opened his mouth to let another yawn escape. But… Neo had to have something in him that Talbot didn’t know yet. He [i]was[/i] a grandmaster. He turned to Vellia and shook her, trying for a moment to wake her, before he got up. [b]”What’s the matter?”[/b] he questioned, slumping a bit. His expression was alert even though his body was not. [b]”What sort of tricks do you have? I mean, I can cast a good Arcfire and Thoron, but that tires me out. For weaker enemies I resort to weaker spells, like a mere Wind or Fire. Maybe even Elthunder.”[/b] he was just trying to make light conversation, his curiosity getting the best of him and making him stand straight as a stick. --- Lumara grinned at Tihlas and let out a chuckle. So this man knew what he was drinking. Yet the flush on his cheeks was still there as he drank more from the second flask. The blond patted her draconic pet, who had fallen asleep curled around her. His tail was on her lap, and the weight was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable on her thighs, so she moved his tail and sighed. [b]”That’s still the good stuff. Not the crap some people call drink when it’s mostly water.”[/b] she smirked smartly at him, and moved her hand to the second last flask she had. She could get them refilled at the next town. There just had to be drink in one of those places. She tossed the flask at his feet, the third one that she gave him. Her eyes were sharp and cold as a steel sword as she glanced up at him. [b]”That’s all you’re getting from me. I don’t have much left and I need to make it last until we reach other civilizations.”[/b] Lumara snapped, returning to drinking from her flask before a broad, strong man came over and handed her a bottle. She noted that he was that man from the battle who was with the blue haired woman and that other man. Taking the bottle, she looked it over. [b]”That’s for me to decide.”[/b] a swig later, she smacked her lips and narrowed her eyes. [b]”Not the flavor I expected from wine. What’s it made of?”[/b] Then the man decided that he was going to go and collect firewood. With her axe. [b]”Hey!”[/b] she cried, standing up and glowering after him. He had some nerve..! She was almost as old as him as well, and yet she didn’t get any respect. Caius grumbled a beasty sigh and raised his head, looking at her with an annoyed face. She pouted and crossed her arms before climbing on Caius and strapping herself down. [b]”Wait up for me! Come on, Tilhas Lightweight.”[/b] she smirked over her shoulder as Caius strode behind Leon, sniffing at his butt. She sure hoped he bit it. He green eyes closed again as she took another swig from the wine bottle. [b]”There’s a log.”[/b] she motioned toward a piece of wood on the floor, and grinned. [b]”Get it for me?”[/b] --- Darrian glanced at Xanxus and scowled deeply. His eyes watched him carefully before he edged Morningstar on, his nose wrinkling in disappointment. Yet, he said nothing for a very long while. There were butterflies in his stomach, but not because of love or passion. No. They were the bad butterflies, the ones that made you want to punch a wall. Or maybe it was just him? He looked ahead, and then, once again, spoke. [b]”I cannot say how disappointed I am in you, Xanxus.”[/b] he told him, his hands tightening around the reigns. [b]”There is a reason I sent you. I could have sent that bag of bones Lantus instead. He would have done better than you. Beaten by a complete stranger!”[/b] he scoffed, his brows furrowing deeper. Morningstar huffed with the effort of carrying the iron and clod clad man that was upon his back. All he had done was whip him and kick him, and not a drop of water was spared for the poor black steed. He drooled openly, eyes wild as his nostrils flaring as he staggered. He whinnied, making Darrian mutter something under his breath. And then, the horse keeled over, dead from starvation and thirst. Darrian got trapped beneath Morningstar. He cried out a curse and dragged himself from beneath the corpse of his once true blooded steed, eyes wide and shocked. Some of his men dismounted and went over to him, but he held up a hand. [b]”Get away from me!”[/b] he screeched. The men nodded stiffly after a moment of hesitation and turned back to their own horses. Huffing and poofed looking, he spun toward Xanxus, who was still on his white mount. He was [i]not[/i] going to walk. Not with his cloak and his clothes and not in this cold weather. He supposed that this would be a form of punishment for Xanxus as well, but he was always wary about scolding both him and Lantus. They weren’t people to be pushed around much. Especially not Xanxus. [b]”Give me your damn horse.”[/b] he demanded. His eyes were wild much like his horse’s had been, and he was tense and shivering with anger. It was sort of amusing, seeing him dressed up and sandy and trembling. It was like he was a dog with no bite, a mere mongrel. Yet, he wasn’t a mere mutt. He was the Exalt, and he expected the soldier to give him his mount.