The Moon Fey took a deep breath and closed her eyes, curling her slender fingers nervously in the rough black hair of Bruin's mane. Rilana didn't like having to trust the drow. She didn't like that Alya was missing, or that Lyle had likely been killed by monstrous trees that she didn't know anything about, and she especially didn't like how poor of a guide she had turned out to be. If Svarak had asked for her sash right now she would have been all too happy to hand it over and let him lead.

[i][color=fff200]It's not your fault. You promised you'd do your best, not that everything would go perfectly.[/color][/i]

[i][color=00aeef]Amazingly, that doesn't make me feel better, bird-brain.[/color][/i]

[color=00aeef]"Fine. I don't want to split up any more either and it wouldn't be wise to ignore her advice. Let's set up camp and get as much rest as we can until Warden Drisceya deems it safe enough to move on. There aren't many of us but we should set watches, if only to make sure the rams aren't getting worked up enough to bolt."[/color] By now, the animals should have been used to Ortha, but when the two-headed black creature slunk along the edges of the cavern the herbivores they turned and eyed her nervously, just looking for a reason to panic. [color=00aeef]"I'll take first watch, try to get some sleep."[/color]

With that, Rilana tucked her leg over the front of Bruin's saddle and landed neatly on the ground. Leading the horse to the middle of the cavern and bringing the riderless ram with her, she began caring for her mount first. Unbuckling his cinch and dragging the saddle off, she held the leather and sheepskin contraption against her hip until she could fold the stirrups and straps up into the seat and set the whole thing down without it dragging messily along the ground.

Digging through her saddlebags, she pulled out a stiff bristle brush and brushed the dirt and sweat from the animal, cleaning him up and relaxing him at the same time. It made her feel better, giving her something to do with her hands while her thoughts swirled with her concern about the rest of the party, her dark and twisted feelings about Svarak, and her general dislike at having to make camp underground.

When that was done, she secured the fjord-horse to a stout-looking stalagmite and left him munching muffledly in his nosebag, asking the others to do the same, her eyes narrowed critically to make sure everyone was taking care of their animals to her strict standards. It was a sure sign of her inner turmoil when she snapped angrily at Beran when the man tried to walk away without cleaning the stones from his ram's cloven hooves.

With the roof of the cavern over their heads and stone underfoot, there was no point in trying to put up their tents, so Rilana spread out her bedroll and sat cross-legged on the pale reindeer-hide, her longbow across her lap and one hand patting the top of one of Ortha's heads, stroking the smooth bony protuberances on the balauradon's skull. The creature's other head chewed noisily on a rather large piece of jerky. The creature was nearly the size of a regular wolf now. At some point she got out a mug and some silverleaf tea to make herself a cup, but it sat unsteeped and forgotten next to her as she gazed worriedly into the darkness. 

Kona soothed her with his logic, and Rilana avoided looking at the others in case she found disappointment in their eyes.