His smile reached his eyes, causing them to close as he chuckled. "I've never considered the carnival. I've only heard tales of it," he admitted. Indeed the closest thing he'd seen of it was peddlars and entertainers in local village taverns attempting to make enough of an impression to get a room for a night. He was more glad that Rayadell had a teasing side to her. 

Calanon turned to Brogach. "It's your decision old friend. Are you too tired for us?" he asked. Brogach shook his huge head slowly, and then nudged Calanon's head with his great snout. Calanon smiled in return, smoothing his truest friend's snout with his hand, and then he leaped upon Brogach's back. Once Rayadell was on, they were off. 

The companions bounded out of the small forest and into the bright, sunlit fields. The day was warming up, the sky above them a vast blue sea with nary a cloud in sight. It made the huge mountains they now approached through the pass between the peaks seem insignificant in the scale of things. Still, despite the looming sun and it's incredible warmth, they could see small piles of snow halfway up the mountain as they entered the pass. A few miles ahead they would be beyond these mountains and into the northern marches proper.