[center][h1][color=686F91]Harry Walsh[/color][/h1]
[img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/d03fc8a9229db3193e86bfc3b3c8b536/tumblr_nkhkysMc5r1uokpato5_540.gif[/img][/center][hr][center][b][color=686F91]Location:[/color][/b] Gheit el Idda[/center][hr]

Even before Aziza motioned towards the bag, Harry had moved to retrieve it. Adjusting his slings somewhat, he hauled it over his shoulder along with his own bag, his rifle tucked nicely between them as well as he followed her out of the room and back down the stairs. Moving into the stall with her, he glanced around briefly, examining each of the horses before he set his gaze upon Dralh. He smiled as he looked the creature up and down, letting Aziza comfort and saddle it as he stared. Horses were something Harry had grown used to seeing during the war, but a creature as fine as this one was still a rarity, indeed - only the bedouins ever had horses as beautiful as Dralh was as far as Harry had recalled. All of Aziza's praise of the creature suddenly made an incredible degree of sense in his mind. 

As Aziza mounted Dralh, Harry gave her a smile and nodded, carefully opening the gate and taking a step aside so Dralh could momentarily stretch his legs. He moved closer and ran a gentle hand along the side of the beasts' neck, speaking in a hushed, warm tone to him as he walked back outside with Aziza and Dralh, allowing the horse to get used to his voice briefly as he walked along. He knew horses well after all, and knew that it would be foolish to have taken Dralh's reigns to lead the creature, or to have disrespected it in any way. Horses were noble beasts, and they demanded respect.

When they returned to Roach, Harry took a moment to climb back up into his saddle, adjusting the reigns in his hands as he glanced over to Aziza with a smile. [b][color=686F91]"Back to the barracks, then."[/color][/b] He nodded, as if to confirm that there was nowhere else she planned to visit before they returned, though for now, he began to canter through the clearer streets, occasionally glancing back to ensure Aziza was close enough for conversation at the very least.

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[center][h1][color=FFE2AA]William Drake[/color][/h1]
[img]http://49.media.tumblr.com/ff46ab5f5f3b663db052ad5d797359c6/tumblr_o23ey3NKbE1qdhps7o3_500.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=FFE2AA]Location:[/color][/b] The Egyptian Museum[/center][hr]

William was somewhat surprised as Vera chose to remain against him, but it was not an unpleasant feeling. The small, miniscule part of his conscience that tried to ensure he held himself with some modicum of respect assured him that it would be best to help her stand up straight, even if she made no effort to himself. Yet, a far stronger part of his heart had no desire to. He welcomed the closeness the two of them had then, even with the tension that still kept them separated by a miles' length. His expression made no change as she spoke originally, it had been the answer he expected, even if he knew she was not talking about a sore ankle or a bruise, but something far more complicated.

As she asked her question, William sighed. There were times he had been on a dig, locked in the darkness of an ancient ruin, puzzled by some ancient riddle or puzzle which kept him locked away from some great secret or treasure. He would sit for hours, days, even weeks, perplexed and entranced by this riddle. At that moment he realized that Vera had been such a riddle, yet there was no treasure in it, she was not a prize, as she insisted he viewed her. And in fact he knew that this was why he was drawn to her, Vera was an engima, a puzzle and a mystery which defied explanation in all ways men can conceive. [b][color=FFE2AA]"Because I don't want to pretend anymore."[/color][/b] The answer came from his lips, but it was not anything he had thought to say. It came from the soul, and even had he attempted to stop it, there would have been no luck. His eyes remained locked on her, his hands still holding her as she stood against him, silence filling the room aside from the two of them, as he waited for her response.