Sabine looked at Meesei while she spoke. She did not make a sound, but she began to blink with greater frequency. What Meesei spoke was what she had been trying to deny in her mind for a long time. Her eyes began to glisten. "We might try?" Sabine murmured. "I do not...I do not want to..." She lowered her head to hide her cheeks tensing and reddening in sadness.

Without any other source of comfort around, Sabine stepped up and embraced Meesei tightly. There was no use arguing about it; Sabine would be going with Meesei away from Peiter whether it was on this journey or a later one. For now, she held on to the naive parts of her mind that hoped that it would still work between herself and her first real love.

[hr]
The weeks of travel were pleasantly peaceful, if cold. No bandits stopped the pack's path to foolishly assail them this time. There was only a sense of familiarity. After packing away their furs as they arrived in the Heartlands, they regularly hunted to save coin and to sate their beast spirits. It was then that what might have been described as nostalgia came over the pack. Even though it had been only four years, so much had happened that a return to such simple living reminded them of happier times.

It was just what Sabine needed to cheer herself up. It wasn't more than one day after leaving Blackreach that she hugged Ahnasha in camp and cried against her shoulder for half an hour straight. When asked about Peiter during this episode, she did not respond to everything, only shaking or nodding her head. They had not officially 'ended' their relationship, but the conversation they had before separating was likely more theatre to hold onto hope before reality set in. They were unlikely to be the same when they next saw one another.

Fendros, on the other hand, became progressively quieter as the pack approached Cheydinhal. The only time that he could apparently take his mind off things was when he started telling stories to Rhazii about his family and how he was turned. Rhazii eventually asked whether he would meet his aunt, uncle, and grandparents, but Fendros couldn't give an answer more certain than 'maybe' before his expression darkened.

As evidenced by Sabine's mood, Gallus opted not to bring his pack with him. He only brought an Argonian acquaintance who owed him a gambling debt, reasoning that they would move fastest in a pair. Luckily for Gallus, his Argonian guide -- named Cuts-Canes-Faster -- was born in Gideon. His travels to the Bruma clan came with an ill-fated trading career. Thankfully, he knew his way around Black Marsh and was kind company around the camp fire. Gallus was in good hands.

While they were travelling, not two nights went by without Gallus sitting alone quietly, pulling out a long, tattered red feather from his pocket, and combing it back into shape with his fingers. At first glance, the feather looked to be one of Meesei's, but given his mission, it could be inferred where it really came from. That Gallus had carried it all this way was an accomplishment in itself.

[hr]
The birds sang an upbeat chorus above Ahnasha and Fendros as they walked up a dirt path outside of Cheydinhal. The sun, the green flora, the speckles of flowers, and not least of which the sounds made for a complete contrast with Fendros' mood. He held his head forward, looking to the path and trying not to catch the eyes of anyone else around them. He even had a loose grip on Ahnasha's fingers, as if unsure whether to even display that much affection even though he needed her support. Perhaps it was the shame, but he didn't have to worry about being recognised on the street. He had grown and kept a beard for years that he never would have grown before he found the pack.

They had donned civilised clothes for this occasion, with Fendros in a plain shirt and breeches and Ahnasha in something similar. Despite being so close to his old life, Fendros felt further from reality than in his entire life save for his dreams. The pair eventually came to a fork in the path.

"Well, here we are," Fendros announced without looking up. "Should we go to the temple of the reclamations first, or..." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the Vineyards in the distance. "Or get the hard part over and done with?"

As he lowered his hand from his neck, Fendros' found the guard of his sword and ran his thumb over the crest on the hilt.

[hr]
Everyone else in the travelling party save for Gallus, Cuts, and Leaps were inside the walls of Cheydinhal in the meantime. The place hadn't changed an awful lot since the last time they were there. The stream still flowed, the market still buzzed, and the statues remained looming. Their task was simple in comparison to Fendros and Ahnasha's.

"Okay, so, to recapitulate," Janius began at the gate, counting off his fingers. "Get our knives sharpened at the smith's grindstone, sell our hides, and..." Janius looked up at the sky and bit the corner of his mouth.

Rhazii half-jumped on the spot. His high voice pealed up in excitement, "Rivets!"

Janius smiled and ruffled the small Cathay-raht's head. "Rivets. You are correct Rhazii." Rivets were a hassle to make in the wild, and the amount of leather they had to work made them nearly essential.

"Very well, you're most qualified to deal with the sharpening, Lorag." Janius handed over a bag of clinking knives that had been collected from the travelling party. "How should we do the rest, Meesei?"