The idea of the plague returning was a little too uncomfortable, yet Rhoynar forced himself onwards with haste. He had a duty and it was disappearing back towards his family. They didn't need the money he'd been offered. They needed to get out if what his friend had told him was true. They had an army but not one that was directly loyal to them. No man that bought his army from another man could say his troops were loyal. It troubled him.. Knowing that things weren't always going to be the same. He knew the ride ahead would give him plenty of time to think, not to mention the journey over the ocean. It wasn't a quick journey, but the salty air would give him the space to think. No matter what troubled him, the harsh and wild breeze of the sea had seemed to help. There had been a balcony in Astipor that looked directly out into the blue. He'd spent many a troubled evening losing himself in the breeze, as his father had too. It was quieter there, peaceful. 

Rhoynar was thankful when the clearly Illifer spoke about pulled closer. He needed the rest. They both did. His legs ached from the ride, thighs sore and tense. He dismounted and let his feet drop into the mud below, squishing instantly. Looking about he was thankful for the various spots of dry mud; at least they would have somewhere to sit. He turned his attention about, making note of what appeared to be an overused firepit made from stones, sticks, and shrubs from the surrounding foliage. It looked unused for some time, although he was no tracker. He could tell the difference between sand and a desert road but not on this country. It made feeling out of place a little worse. He gave a short sigh and continued to look about the clearing, waiting to see the tell-tale signs of life. Yet he saw nothing, no indication they would be suddenly joined. 

His attention turned as soon as his companion's did. One hand immediately dropped to his waist, gripping the hand of his sword with a tense grip. They didn't need a fight, no matter whether man or beast. He stepped carefully back towards his horse, his mind split between whatever was afoot and maintaining his balance in the wet mud. He reached the reigns of his horse and held them tightly, ready to mount as soon as he needed. His talent lied in mounted combat more than it did on foot, although with a sword the advantage was on the ground; pass him a spear however and his foe was a dead man. Brown eyes watched the hedgerow and waited, eyes darting between trees and into the darkness. He couldn't hear a thing to suggest humans were around. He turned his eyes to Illifer as she looked his way and silently agreed. Lifting one foot, he pulled himself into the saddle and pushed his horse forwards. He pulled his arm away from his body, fully revealing his sword. He wanted to be prepared, no matter what.