Ghent felt everything happening around and within him. The magic warmed the skin underneath his sleeves, the numbness vanishing from his fingers. The whoosh of the fire lighting the CottonTail prompted him to open his eyes, resulting in him scrambling away from the woodpile with a yell. He kept his distance, gulping as the flames lapped at the wood.
	The wait was short, but terrible. Ghent tugged on the drawstrings of his hoodie, mentally repeating 'extinguo' in an anxiety induced mantra. He waited for the fire grow out of control, but it didn’t. The fire was contained. Maybe he was getting the hang of this. 
	“Elayra, check this out!” Ghent looked back for her approval, his excitement blinding him to the fact that she was on guard duty. Or at least she had been. Drust was awake and speaking with her, their words barely audible over the crackling of fire.
	Seeing the blonde near the madman, Ghent grabbed the piece of wood from the ground and sprang to his feet. The movement made his middle ache, the pain reminding him of how close he and Elayra had come to dying by Drust’s hands. 
	“Elayra!” Ghent was about to tell her to get away from the Knight, but her stern look silenced him. His eyes narrowed in disapproval, his jaw set. Although Drust was restrained, Ghent felt Elayra was being careless. 
	While the two spoke, Ghent listened intently. He hated to admit it, but he could tell Drust was different. He was quiet, possibly even remorseful for his previous actions. It was the least scary Ghent had seen the man.
	Folding his arms across his chest, Ghent stuck out his bottom lip in a silent pout after Elayra interrupted Drust's beginnings of an apology. He wanted to hear the man beg for forgiveness.
	Apparently, the almost-apology was good enough for Elayra. Ghent tensed as she reached for the rope, her fingers working at the knot. She was going to untie Drust.
	“WAIT!” Ghent's two minutes of silence was officially over. Pushing through his exhaustion, he ran forward, determined to stop Drust from being freed.
	“What the heck do you think you're doing?!” Ghent gestured to Drust wildly with the piece of wood, his voice cracking midway. “You do realize he tried to kill us, right?” he hissed, whispering as if Drust wouldn’t hear the exchange.
	“I mean..." Ghent stole a sideways glance at their captive, feeling conflicted by the sight of him. He didn’t want to keep Drust tied up if he didn’t have to be, but he also didn’t like the idea of being murdered in his sleep.
	“Shouldn’t we, I dunno, test him or something?” Ghent suggested, gesturing again with the wood. He almost smacked Drust in the head with it without meaning to. “Make him swear on his honor that he won’t attack us?”