"Usually I'd disagree," Cyrdic said, leaning his forearms on the railing. The squeeze Camilla gave him caused a small smile to bloom on his face. "Most days of a soldier's life is spent marching rather than fighting. But..." He trailed off for a moment, and then chuckled. "You're right," he continued, "ever since I met you, it's all been one long conflict. Not that I mind. It's been oddly fun, actually." 

Cyrdic nudged her. His muscled body next to hers, it felt like a swaying tree pressing to Camilla, though it was still playful. As the soldier gazed out into the water, watching the moon's reflection, he placed his hand on Camilla's. It was weird, her comment. Cyrdic usually thought in the now. He never really looked at the big picture unless the situation called for it. Ordinarily, it was 'take that hill!' and 'for Sigmar!' Even now to him, it was just a quiet night. Despite her hard fighting and fiery nature, Camilla had a very clever, almost melodramatic quality to the way she spoke. They were so different in a lot of ways, but that was one of the good things. 

Looking over his shoulder, he saw no one was close to their side of the ship, and some had already gone to bed. His eyes then fell on Camilla, and he reached up to slip a cascading flow of her raven hair behind her ear. His other hand slipped onto her waist, in a familiar way, but in truth he was merely giving a light feel of her bruises. "How are you feeling?" He asked her. 
[@Penny]