Having packed up many camps over the past year, the thieves made quick work of gathering all of their supplies and readying themselves to move on to Grimsby. Still missing the arrows that he had used during the battle, Crow remembered to make a detour back to the battlefield to collect any that he could find. Alistair joined him, since it seemed like all of his companions had created an unspoken rule that their ill leader would never go anywhere alone. Normally, he might have been annoyed by this, but it wasn’t really that big of a change since they tended to go out in pairs anyway, so he dealt with it without complaint.

When the two thieves reached the clearing, they paused at the edge of the tree line to check if the knights were still there. Fortunately, it looked like they had all left aside from a few who were collecting the bodies of the fallen Brerratic soldiers. Exchanging a brief glance with Alistair, Crow nodded and led the way as they began to scour the bodies in search of arrows. With the thick cover of darkness, the knights didn’t spare them even a passing glance, and they managed to recover most of the arrows he had lost during the fight relatively quickly.

Once they had finished, Crow walked back with Alistair to meet up with the others on the northern edge of Whitebridge, and the group began to make their way to Grimsby. Along the way, Hazel fell back to walk at his side. “How did you do during the battle?” she asked, casting him a curious glance. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “I just camped out in a tree and loosed arrows on any knights that got too close to the border.” He smirked at her proudly. “See? I told you I would be alright.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too cocky. This battle went much more smoothly than most, from what your friends have told me. You still need to be careful.”

“I know,” he fixed his gaze straight ahead as they walked. “But I’ll be fine as long as I don’t get caught up in the heat of the fight. That’s why I brought this in the first place.” He tipped his head towards the bow that hung across his shoulder. “As long as I keep using distance to my advantage, no one can touch me.”

“You got lucky once,” Hazel said sternly. “Don’t forget that someone could still figure out where you’re attacking from and come after you. All it takes is one lucky knight, and you’ll be trapped like a rat.”

“I’d forgotten how optimistic you are,” Crow muttered with dry sarcasm.

“I’m just being realistic,” she shrugged.

“I know,” he sighed. “And you’re right. But that’s why I’m being careful.” He turned back to her with a soft smile. “There’s a reason the knights haven’t been able to catch me since my mistake three years ago, love. I know how to keep a low profile.” He nudged her with his shoulder as they walked. “Trust me; I’ll be alright.”

Hazel held his gaze for a moment before looking away and shaking her head, “Gods, I hate that silver tongue of yours. You could tell me you’re going to jump off a cliff and somehow make me believe it’s a good idea.”

Crow laughed. “Who knows? It could be fun,” he winked at her teasingly.

“Shut up,” she shoved him with a snort. “But fine. You’ve convinced me. I’ll stop pestering you about it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded appreciatively.

“Mm,” the herbalist grunted. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t.”

--

The group arrived in Grimsby just before sunrise. When they finally reached the ridge that overlooked the village, Crow had already begun to sway tiredly on his feet. It had been a while since the last time he had been out so late, and the strain of keeping himself from falling asleep on the walk there had worn him down greatly. Still determined to be useful to his companions, he moved to help them as they started setting up camp, but Hazel stepped in his path before he had a chance to do anything.

“Ah, ah,” she tutted in a manner resembling the way a mother might correct a rebellious child. She dug in her bag and held out a new jar of medicine. “Take this and go straight to sleep. If you want to fight in the next battle, you’re going to need to get some rest first.”

Crow opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and simply nodded in reluctant compliance. He wanted to help, but he knew she was right. He couldn’t risk triggering his illness by shortchanging himself on sleep right before a major fight. Besides that, he was exhausted. He wasn’t about to argue with her about going to bed when his aching body was begging him to lay down.

Taking the jar from her hand, he finished off the draught inside and then passed it back to her. Too tired to even utter a word of goodnight, he just yawned as he made his way over to a flat area and dropped his bags on the ground. He unfurled his bedroll and laid down heavily, barely drawing his blanket over himself before he slipped out of consciousness and fell asleep, finally giving in to the weariness that had been trying to overtake him all night.