[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=556B2F]Thalken Talink[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/xT9IguF2se5tYztvck/giphy.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=556B2F]You haven't even seen my bad side yet.

[/color][/h3][/I][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9Ffqq0Y25Y][color=556B2F]- [I]"My Name (Wearing Me Out)" by Shinedown[/I][/color][/url][/center]
[hr][hr][center][b][color=556B2F]Location:[/color][/b] Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park) 
[b][color=556B2F]Skills:[/color][/b] None currently
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	Thalken didn't even bother to hold back a groan when he heard someone call him back [I]yet again[/I] and call him by a name that wasn't his [I][b]yet again[/b][/I]. When he turned around to face Constantin head on, this time around he kept his composure, and by composure I mean he glared at the man. You know, the usual.[color=556B2F]"Thalken. My name is Thalken,"[/color] he retorted gruffly. [color=556B2F]"Now, what do you want?"[/color] 

	He crossed his arms over his chest as his dark eyes narrowed on the man. It was clear as day that Constantin didn't like him, and as far as Thalken was concerned, the feeling was mutual. Sure, he did vomit all over the man, but kicking him in the stomach hard to enough to catapult several feet away and to cause him to--yeah, he wasn't going to finish that thought. The memory was just too fresh and cringeworthy. Now, the point of the matter was that for his "suffering" Constantin owed him big time. Yes, he was quite possibly going to be that petty. 

	But for now, he supposed he would answer all of these stupid questions that he kept being bombarded with for some unknown reason. [i]Green flag with a stag?[/i] He rolled his eyes at the question. [color=556B2F]"It's one of the flags for the city of Nottingham,"[/color] he replied a bit tersely. [color=556B2F]"Now, what are all these stupid questions even about? Are you searching for someone?"[/color] [i]Not that I really care,[/i] he thought but decided to leave that part out. Perhaps though the fact that he was even questioning any of it all, let alone obliging their requests, said deep down a small part of him did care. Nah, probably not.
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[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=DC143C]Fyror Kildragon[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/3oKIPfz9cQZIJsAMw0/giphy.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=DC143C]Integrity is doing the right thing 
even when no one is watching.
[/color][/h3][/I][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uicVCPkNZRg][color=DC143C]- [I]C.S. Lewis[/I][/color][/url][/center]
[hr][hr][center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Preston, England 
[b][color=DC143C]Skills:[/color][/b] Leadership
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	Fyror's gaze softened further at Colette's response, and he managed to give her a small reassuring smile. [color=DC143C]"It's alright. No harm done. It was food for thought, really,"[/color] he murmured in response, before glancing out the window at the passing scenery. At this time, they were finally nearing the port town of Preston. 

	He looked back over at Colette, his brows furrowing and a frown tugging down at his features. He shook his head. [color=DC143C]"A man shouldn't have to have a reason to treat a woman with respect,"[/color] he replied. He, of course, earnestly and wholeheartedly believed in what he said, and he tried his upmost to live up to those standards. Granted, he also wasn't naïve enough to believe that every man thought the same way or tried to live in the same manner. Lord Rutherford was proof enough that that was not the case. A part of him wondered if Miss Fontaine had encountered such ungentlemanly men, and if she had, well, he honestly felt sorry on their behalves. At the end of the day, he was raised to treat women with respect, no matter what their social standing was. 

	Fyror looked back out the window as he felt the carriage come to a grinding halt. His lips thinned slightly at seeing how cram packed Preston was, and he silently prayed that it wouldn't cause them much delay. He looked back over at Colette, nodding his head in agreement. He was about to get up to open the door for her and help her out of the carriage, but the woman was already two steps ahead of him. He looked down in an attempt to hide the small, amused smile that came to his features. He had to admit that he admired an independent woman. Perhaps that was why he had felt a fondness for Ms. Wyndham in the first place. She had seemed so strong-willed and independent, at least perhaps until now. What had Lord Rutherford done to her to cause her to lose her fire? 

	The smile quickly slipped from Fyror's features as he exited the carriage, and it was replaced by the sternness of a man on a mission. And that he was, a man on a mission. His perceptive gaze took everything in with a quick sweeping glance before looking back at Colette. He nodded his head and then gestured for her to follow him. [color=DC143C]"Come along, Miss Fontaine. Let's make haste for the harbor. The sooner we can acquire a ship, the sooner we can hope to catch up to Lord Rutherford and Miss Wyndham,"[/color] he exclaimed. He then began to weave through the crowds, He eventually decided to offer Colette his arm for fear of losing her in the hustle and bustle of the port.