As time with the group wore on Dreet-Na became somewhat more comfortable around the majority of them, however realistically it seemed most were still keeping to themselves and concentrating on the journey at hand. He continued to write general observations and relevant information within the book he was keeping, updating it each night as they made camp. Aside from that he generally kept to himself, though did ask any question that came to his mind where appropriate. He found himself occasionally watching Valerion, his mind wandering about the implications of what he was – his mind searching to recall much of what he had read and learnt throughout his many years. 

A week had passed and the group were once again making camp, this time about a half-mile away from Darkwater Crossing. Dreet-Na stood atop a slightly elevated rocky outcropping and gazed about them, taking note that several of their companions had since left the group, leaving fewer in number. He trudged towards the others, picking up any dry discarded pieces of wood or other relevant kindling that he passed before he knelt in the centre of their tents and started to make a fire. He was fed up of the chill in the air and the dampness, and even though he had been subtly casting resistance spells as they went he wanted to feel the genuine heat of a warm fire. 

As he finished and lit the fire he glanced up towards Valerion, suddenly remembering that he wanted to thank him again for the tomes he had provided. He had now memorised the spells within and was more prepared for whatever would come their way. 

“Many thanks for your earlier contribution” Dreet-Na croaked towards him “I hope that these spells will be useful against whatever we need to face” as he spoke he pulled his ornate flask from within his robes and uncorked it. “Though I do not know how effective my magic would be against a Dovah, I can at least provide wards and protection of an expert level to our companions”. He took a swig from the flask before stowing it away again quickly, sighing as he gazed around the somewhat desolate countryside surrounding them. As the evening wore on he wandered the immediate area and picked several plants before returning to the fire and pulling a small pestle and motor from his bag, along with a small pouch that was brimming with various ingredients. It was simple enough to do what he wanted, making several potions and a poultice from the numerous stalks and petals of the Dragon’s Tongue plants he had picked, combining them with what little Elves Ear and Snowberries he had with him. 

“To resist fire” he explained to those around him, before he placed the items beside the fire. “Take what you need” he added gesturing to them, not speaking to anyone in particular as he once more buried his nose within a book, this time searching for any reference to the battle tactics of Dragons. The books he had ‘borrowed’ from High Hrothgar were proving most useful, he had already learnt that there were several different variants of dovah – each acting somewhat differently and specialised abilities. It seemed that all variants were able to use both fire and frost breath, as well as being practically impossible to defeat in melee combat. It looked like they had quite a task before them.