[center][b][u]Adrian, Maellinn, Victor, and Vathalar[/u][/b][/center]
[center][u] The Road to Eamonvale[/u][/center]
[center]---[/center]

Adrian, who had not done much except for eating, dozing off and staring, had suddenly jolted upright with enough intensity to give the two flanking her a bit of a fright. Her head whipped around, smacking Victor with ginger tresses as she glared at the back of the cart, nostrils flaring.

“Easy there.” he looked at her with furrowed brows before following her gaze to the back of the wagon, unable to spot anything. “You notice something?” Victor asked.

“Bad man,” Adrian muttered bracingly. “Someone bad is coming.”

“Calm down, it’s probably just a-...” 

“‘Hey! Stop, please!” 

Victor paused as he heard the stranger from behind their wagon voice out at them. He shot up a glance at Maellinn, letting her decide what to do. “We should see what he wants?” he asked.

Maellinn pursed her lips with uncertainty, “it's no secret that strange men trying to stop you on the road is usually bad news,” she thought out loud, “but…”

“Whoa,” Maellinn commanded John, and suddenly the slow moving wagon creaked to a halt. She looked at Victor, “they may need our help-- besides they did say please.”

Adrian shook her head. “Bad men do not need help,” she warned Maellinn, but had no say in the stopping of the wagon.

At first it seemed as if no reaction had been triggered, but after a couple of seconds the carriage finally was commanded to a grinding halt. Vathalar eased his horse along the side of it carefully before bringing his exhausted mount to a full stop as well. He was honestly trying to look friendly, but as he did his facial expression was already betraying the fact that he was not adept at dealing with complete strangers. "Erm... Hello!" it came out of his mouth somewhat low and hesitantly. "Would you mind another passenger for a while ? It seems you are heading the same way I intend to go..." At this point his nose had not yet noticed how freakingly close he had come to someone of his own kind.

“Uh,” Maellinn shifted in her seat, “well, no… But also no-- what I mean to say is, I can't... Or well, I can! But-- he!”

She pointed at John, her voice resting into a polite smile “it'll be too much for ol’ John.”

Vathalar looked at the ox that the woman pointed to. It seemed very strong, and he himself ? He looked down along the outline of his own body. Well... that meal still made his belly bulge a little, but he knew that excessive fat was nowhere to be found -- just the same as with 
excessive muscle. He wasn't heavy! However he didn't dare to contradict her, but instead hoped that someone else would do so.

Victor was silently staring Vathalar down, seemingly trying to make a quick study of the stranger. He interrupted their conversation: “Where are you headed?”

“Erm…” Vathalar took a brief, but noticeable moment in order to figure out his answer. “Roughly the direction of Eamonvale, but I’m in no particular hurry.”

Victor nodded slowly, still seemingly unsatisfied with the strangers true intentions. “Your horse, is it ill?” he shifted his gaze down to Vathalars mount.

“It’s tired.” Vathalar replied, this time less hesitantly. It was the truth after all. “I’ve already traveled a long way.”

Victor looked back up at Vathalar: “And what do we call you?”

“Vathalar. Just that, Vathalar. May I ask about your name ?”

“I’m Victor, hitched a ride on the wagon from Bradlesworth. You’ll have to argue about hitching a ride with the boss here. It’s her transport.” he explained, leaning back as he opted out of involving himself with the final decision. Instead he turned to look at Maellinn, his brows briefly furrowing.

Adrian had not taken her eyes off Vathalar since he trotted into view. This was not one of her usual stares - it was cold and impersonal, her eyes narrowed into little green pinpricks as she watched him with an intensity that could scrape the rust off steel.

Maellinn looked at all of her companions then back at Vathalar, her face flushed with indecision and held together with a weak smile. 

“I-- er, well,” She sputtered. 

“Maybe?” She looked cross, “I mean four bodies and a wagon is a lot for John… but I could walk aside I suppose. I don't know, we need to stop soon ourselves, John's been tugging all day.”

“Alright. You heard her.” Victor interjected again. “Take my spot. I’ll be on my own horse. He’ll be rested by now.” he directed at Vathalar and before anyone could butt in he had stood up to hop off the wagon and move towards his own horse that was tied to the wagon before their departure. 

Maellinn shifted uncomfortably in her spot as Victor shot off the wagon. The finality of her decision weighed on her slightly, “oh, I can walk it's fine, Victor.” She called after the man, “been sitting all day and we don't have much longer before we all need to rest anyways.”

“Don’t be stupid.” he stated, already hoisting himself onto his horse and trotting it besides the wagon parked on the road. “We can’t be too far from the nearest settlement anyway”, he remained adamant. “Adrian, behave.” he warned the girl still sat beside Maellinn on the front of the wagon. 

Meanwhile, Adrian was still reeling from Victor's split second decision, staring at him dumbfounded. She made a half incredulous snort then wheeled onto Vathalar with a voice as severe as her glaring; “Go away.”

“Hey- hey!” Victor quipped at Adrian. “What did I say?”

Adrian’s face contorted into a snarl as she jabbed a finger accusingly at Victor. “You did not listen! You [i]never[/i] listen! I warn you both! And now he-...He go to--gnnrh!” Adrian groaned with frustration and abruptly cut off into a different language, one that sounded familiar to the Common tongue but was spoken too quickly and with too heavy a dialect to understand. Although the little rant took no longer than half a minute, it had a fluidity and a sense of power that could not be appropriately translated into Common. It was also accompanied with various angry gestures towards various people around her, at one point seemingly yelling at poor John.

Then the rant abruptly cut off and Adrian folded her arms, twisted back around, and stared stonily at John’s rump in a picture perfect display of sulkiness. “I warned you,” she grumbled. “Your fault now.”

Victor, incredibly out of his element when faced with what was a sour child, could do nothing but shoot her a glare and bark back “Then sit in the back!” Adrian made an angry noise and started climbing over the bench, disappearing into the murky gloom of the covered wagon. You could hear her stomping.

Vathalar's mood had slowly, but surely turned into anxiety as he had been waiting for anything that could be interpreted as a clear 'Yes' -- or at least an equally clear 'No' to get things over with. However neither thing happened. Instead that one girl who he didn't even know the name of darted glances at him that were like cold needles cruelly put into his heart. What had he done to provoke such thing ? Usual prejudices were pretty much out of question since neither she looked like a snob nor he looked like the [i]very[/i] poorest of peasants ? He couldn't help but silently interpret her worry about overburdening the ox as nothing but a haphazard pretense.

Then the other woman who had previously been called 'boss' raised her voice, rising his hopes again as she gave a clear word. To Vathalar she appeared rather confused however, if not intimidated by the obvious hostility against him presented by Adrian. After all Victor seemed to the most neutral and most friendly one of the three, even going as far as offering his seat for him to take. He nodded friendly towards the tall male. Vathalar really would have liked to express his gratitude with more than that, but Adrian's outburst managed to keep his mouth shut. What the hell was going on with her ? She didn't look that much like a hopelessly underaged priss either...

Vathalar dismounted, grabbed the free end of the reigns and heaved himself into the empty spot which was still warm from Victor's presence. His own horse would just trot next to the wagon, loosely guided by him. Vathalar took another innocent breath -- and then it hit him. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he picked up a faint, but certain scent that could only mean one thing... It could probably explain a lot, but still Vathalar would have given a goddamn, bloody worthy thing if it just had not been there. Another werebeast, another wolf-ish werebeast to be precise.

Halfway unconsciously, Vathalar's body shifted on the seat. A few, but noticeable inches more now separated him from Adrian, the one person he suddenly was very careful about. Bad mood and beast, an uncomfortable combination that made him try and gain as much pre-warning time about her as possible. He couldn't help but turn his eyes towards her several times, observing her.

Maellinn watched with worry as Adrian crawled away in anger. Worried, Maellinn turned to John, “get ye up, John! Get ye up.”

The ox started it's slow walk again, the wagon creaking forward once more. Maellinn turned to Vathalar and handed him the riding branch with an apologetic smile, and then quickly ducked into the back of the wagon after Adrian. 

She slunk through the gloomy atmosphere of the interior and plopped onto one of the benches, her shoulder against the clay oven, “Adrian, are you okay?” Adrian shot a glance over at Maellinn, waving her hand dismissively.

“Fine. Keep bad man in sights,” Adrian prodded a finger at Vathalar’s rigid back. She was not half as nervous as Vathalar looked - cold, but firm in her distaste for the other man.