Garagogarag watched with interest as everyone filed into the now much larger cart. He glanced at the Treeleg who was busy chewing at some kind of stick. It had a hole at the end he could sea a constant trail of smoke escaped it. It reeked like nothing Garagogarag has ever smelled before, and his sensitive nose was not at all pleased. He gave a disgruntled growl and shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the stench from his nose. Without further comment, he climbed onto the cart and seated himself by the hotheaded elf who had spoken up in favour of fighting a way out of whatever predicament each of them found themselves in. 

Garagogarag was not entirely aware of how much a predicament he was in. As far as he was concerned, he was here not against his will, but to the contrary, he was perfectly happy being here. The Life had willed it, and who was he to question the Life? But all these creatures seemed rather displeased about being here. Bar the quiet short one, that is, who for one reason or another, and despite its short stature, had caught Garagogarag's eye the moment he stopped speaking. He had not noticed her before for one reason or another. Something in the way she stood, the way her mouth was set as though she had made her mind up on not saying a word, the way she eyed the others...
She was an interesting one, different from the rest.

He had not wanted to speak, his mastery over this new tongue was far from ideal. The child had spent long speaking to him in it and explaining it on their long journey from the tribal lands to this strange place. He was a quick learner, and his inherent ability to understand others helped, but he could not say that others could understand him as well as he them. He had never considered it, but when he compared the manner in which he spoke, even in the Treemind tongue, it was rather strange and unintelligible unless one could, as other Treeminds could, understand his communication in other ways, such as his tribal markings and the limited awareness of each other's presence and thinking. Perhaps...he should strive towards emulating the manners in which they spoke if he wished for his meaning to be clearer.

He looked towards the child sitting on his shoulder. Was it not a strange bond they shared? This ability to communicate without a single word...
He had never really thought about it...but why was it so? Why could this child read into him and the other way around? And why, in the name of all things living, was it such a cynical and most  depressed being! It rolled its eyes at him, as if saying, [color=f7941d][i]I am neither of those things. I merely speak truth. That is one of the duties of the intellectual.[/i][/color] Garagogarag blinked a few times. [b][color=007236][i]The whatnow?[/i][/color][/b]

Ignoring him, the child regarded all those present in the cart as it began its slow way to wherever it was they were going. Garagogarag was not yet entirely sure what it was they were expected to do, really. No one had explained it to him and the child, useful as he was, had not bothered to explain anything to him. Not that it mattered, he would do only as the Life commanded, and nothing he found himself doing would be out of step with what the Life wished...surely. Or at least no situation he found himself in would be against the wishes of the Life, for it guided his way. The child gave him a derisive look, its contemptuous, logical voice came to him, [color=f7941d][i]The Life? You are still going on about that? You are far too self-assured and content. Even one who does believe in higher beings should allow some space for doubt, no?[/i][/color]

Garagogarag cocked his head. Now that was rather interesting. Before he could respond, however, he felt something leaning on his arm...or rather than leaning, completely reclining on it. Careful so as not to move his arm, he looked down to find that, in a strangely innocent manner, the hotheaded elf was asleep, leaning back onto Garagogarag's arm. He looked very much at peace, he even thought that there was a small, content smile hovering around the elf's mouth. His eyes didn't lie, but perhaps he was simply seeing what he wanted to see. Eyes could do that, no? Particularly eyes as good as his own. [color=f7941d][i]No, eyes don't do that. Not good eyes at least.[/i][/color]

Ignoring the child, Garagogarag watched the elf for a while. This one was interesting too. There was much to be learned from observing all of these interesting new creatures. He had no doubt that slowly, but surely, he would grow in this place. Perhaps it was a strange place to come for growth, indeed, this one seemed uninterested in growing here; it did not mean that it was not a good place to grow however. If the Life had led him here, then it was a good place. And what he saw before him proved, more than anything, that this was a good place. Or at least that there was much goodness to be found. There was no greater goodness than the state of complete innocence of sleep, of complete unity with the Life. In sleep, all creatures revealed their inner goodness. Any who, even in sleep, appeared vile and full of darkness were surely of the most accursed beings in existence.

A coughing Skytalon woke the elf and something of an affray followed. Garagogarag watched with interest as the hotheaded elf slowly coaxed the Thunderhoof into a state of anger. He worked his prey with expert ease and once he had him at his feet, he offered a hand of friendship. Naturally, the proud - and somewhat dimwitted - Thunderhoof could not find further justification to be aggressive, but neither could he simply accept a hand of friendship from one who had humiliated him so. It was the fate of the Thunderhoofs, dear as they were to Garagogarag's heart, to be ever warlike and aggressive and lacking in refinement and the ability to think more broadly, beyond who they will pummel next.

Sighing slightly, Garagogarag turned his head away from the others and sat in silence for a while. The child sat quietly on his shoulder, its thoughts mixing with his own at points and little back and forth ensuing. At least having this constant source of debate ensured his thinking never descended to the level of a Thunderhoof. [color=f7941d][i]Don't kid yourself, there really is no difference between you and that Bull. If anything, he's much better than you, at the very least he doesn't have this superiority complex you seem to have.[/i][/color] 
[b][color=007236][i]Well, that is rather interesting.[/i][/color][/b] 
[color=f7941d][i]Isn't everything with you?[/i][/color] The child rolled its eyes, an exasperated huff leaving its tiny mouth.

'So...may I ask what brought you all here, Serons?' Garagogarag turned his head towards the voice. The hotheaded one had spoken, and he appeared to be addressing him. Garagogarag wondered what this 'Serons' was. He had never heard it. Perhaps it was a name? Maybe the elf was mistaking him for somebody else. After all, if the Treeleg had mistaken him for a monkey, it was entirely possible that this creature had mistaken him for someone it knew. Perhaps even one of its kind. Yes, he was certain that, if he tried, he could pass probably pass off for one of the creature's kind, at least, if others of its kind also had such bad eyesight.
[i][color=f7941d]A Seron is a word elves use to refer to their mercenary 'allies'. He definitely is not confusing you for one of his kind, what do you take him for? Some idiot? He's an elf![/color][/i]

Garagogarag looked at the child quizzically for a while.
[b][i][color=007236]Well, it is entirely possible that it was confused. How am I to know that it is so intelligent? I have never heard of this word Seron before. We Treeminds do not interact with these elf creatures.[/color][/i][/b] It was clear, however, that other beastmen did interact with these elves, and even fought alongside them. 
Looking down at the elf, Garagogarag nudged the child to speak on his behalf, he did not think his speech yet ready. Without much emotion, the child spoke.

[color=f7941d]'This one is of the Treemind tribe in the north. He thinks that a higher power called 'the Life' brought him here. In reality, he was caught by a mage and a group of hired mercenaries who then brought him here and sold him. I assure you, I have absolutely no interest in you whatsoever, but he is asking you how you got here. We might just have a romance on our hands.'[/color]
[color=1a7b30][b][i]A romance?[/i][/b][/color]
[i][color=f7941d]Or the way this is going, it looks more like a comedy.[/color][/i] If the child could look any the more unimpressed, he would have been [url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/62/Beautiful_Greek_woman_statue.jpg/398px-Beautiful_Greek_woman_statue.jpg]some ancient carving of a disdainful god[/url].