[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Yz7vNw2.png[/img][/center] [♪] Nanami had prepared for the journey into the sand storms, seeing had been here a few times now, though Jing had been disapproving of her first trip by herself. It paid off either way, allowing her father to stubbornly agree to her recruitment and now she was eagerly waiting a time where the group would find clues and puzzles to a lost world. Though she had her normal tailored armor, she had wrapped it in more layers to guard against whipping winds and to keep her body cooler, sporting a large brimmed hat and a scarf to cover most of her face. Was it fancy? For desert garb, yes, though far more practical in make. Nanami did have a habit of dressing nice, which in turn resulted in Stephan often and mockingly calling her [i]'princess'[/i]. Though she usually didn't let it bother her, she was miffed to some degree, especially since she actually enjoyed the nickname - if used properly. Either way, she was more focused on a journal she had brought than the current bet over a man's life. While she didn't find it particularly offensive, neither was she the type to indulge in bets of any kind, let alone if someone was still breathing or not. Her eyes flickered over the camp for a moment, listening as she causally skimmed her notes. She had joined the company for six months now, though this was by far her longest assignment, but she still didn't know the others on a personal level. In a way, she felt like she could relate to Gwen, if only a tad bit. The two hadn't even really talked in depth, but she was aware that there was certainly [i]something[/i] between Gwen and her father. Regardless, she was a bit of a bookworm compared to many of the other mercenaries and spent her time researching or jotting down notes. Nanami did try from time to time to engage, but bets? She didn't have much to offer. Still, [color=ff3b7a][b]"I simply hope there are survivors of some sort..."[/b][/color] With a pause followed by a sigh, [color=ff3b7a][b]"but on the more likely note there are none, I do hope there are some relics of the past."[/b][/color] She slowly closed her journal by now and tucked it away in her belt and wandered over to the gourd and refilled her skin, nodding a thanks to Pox. [color=ff3b7a][b]"My thanks, Master Pox."[/b][/color] She had enjoyed returning the man's over-polite nature, which of course, only gave Stephan more fuel to mock her but she didn't mind.