[h3]Ninty Bat[/h3]
Ninty was in a foul mood. For one thing she was very far from where she’d last heard her fathers to be, granted that little snippet of news was weeks old it was all she had to go on. Secondly, she’d been told by their wonderful employer that the journey wouldn’t be long which was becoming less and less likely the further they trudged.

During the night Ninty had toyed with the idea of stealing what she could and legging it, and for a while it had seemed like a good idea. Until she realised that it was a terrible thing to do and the others would’ve caught her within hours.

Brann almost looked almost comical with his empty water skin. Ninty, however, was unimpressed and rolled her eyes at him. If it hadn’t been for his earlier comment, made only worse by his attempts to fix it, she wou;d’ve handed him her spare. Syfa however had not such problems.
“Well ya should’ve filled it up more, now shouldn’t ya.” She berated as she passed. “Lucky for you Jester, ya got her to keep ya alive.”

The sunrise had painted the sky a deep crimson that morning and if Papas many sayings were to be believed it meant that they were in for some rain that afternoon. But for now, it was painted a delightful blue with a healthy splattering of clouds casting puddles of shadow drifting lazily across the world around them. Now if only there was a road for them to follow.

Ninty called up to Syfa. “Don’t suppose ya see a road or anything?”