Apparently they were prepared to run the entire way. Frans Vou held up his hands in an attempt to placate the nain’s perception of his insulting notion. Recalling Meinhardt’s warning from the previous night he decided to beat a hasty retreat on such matters. After all his question would soon answer itself in good time once they migrated to the road. “No, no monsieur nain, a mistake, I understand in full. I meant no disrespect and apologize for my ignorance of your attributes and customs. Zey were not highly taught to moi, nor amongst my kin.” This explained Frans Vou mounted his horse and fell into their traveling column.
	
	Indeed the Dawi demonstrated themselves to be determined folk, trudging along without complaint for miles on end. Though not even close to as swift as the study-footed mules or the proud warhorse they did not slow the overall party down by much and by the time they reached their destination Frans Vou found himself deeply respectful of their tenacity and spirit. Even though the weather proved tumultuous at times they, and everyone else pressed on, even Frans Vou did not express his dissatisfaction of their living conditions aloud. After all he perhaps had the most comfortable arrangements with servants to cook and clean and erect a tent for him each night. The Breton remained jealously selfish with his page and loyal manservant, allowing no others to order them about without his express permission, which was not often forthcoming. Still, Frans Vou was distinctly out of his element in this particular life style, but kept his thoughts and words to himself, unwilling to have anybody else deem him weak or soft.

	When at last they drew close to their first mission Frans Vou dismounted breathing in the soft air, the scent of wet pine and elder sharp in his nostrils. Yet, besides the coils of wood smoke rising slowly above the treetops Frans Vou recognized none of the warning signs Severo mentioned. Perhaps the lack of guardsmen was obvious, but Frans Vou could neither deny nor confirm their presence was expected, and could implement no further expertise on the matter. Instead the bold knight surrendered his lance and horse’s reins to Adrian and stepped up beside Drimbold and Wademar. “Oui, count moi in monsieur Servero. I am curious to see zis sorcière we’ve traveled here for.”