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

A couple of hours passed, tilting the midday sun and setting the sky into a deep and rich blue through the boughs of the trees and across the rolling hills of Eamonvale. Conversation had practically died the moment Vathalar had gotten into the seat. Adrian’s eyes could just about be seen in the back of the wagon - not once has she stopped glaring daggers into his back, barely moving a muscle. They had not stopped once since dawn, save to pick up the hitchhiker.

Maellinn sat tense at the driver's seat by Vathalar. One could tell by the look of her face that she wanted to say something, but whatever that might be was unclear. Her eyes darted from John to Vathalar back to John, the words of Adrian still ringing in her head. 

“I killed a man,” she finally blurted out loudly, “well-- I didn't-- it was because of me, but--” she shook her head and looked at Vathalar, “if-- if you're hiding something or are just plain bad…”

She sucked up a nervous breath, unused to confrontation, “you best just tell us all now.”

Victor raised a hand and began rubbing his temple at Maellinns comment, trotting his mount along the driver's seat as they made their way through the countryside. “It’s fine, Maellinn. I was just suspicious of the man because…” victor paused, redirecting the rest of his explanation to Vathalar who was sat on the far end of the driver's seat bench: “- because frankly you looked and sounded like an escaped convict. What with the tired horse and all…” he finished by motioning at the slightly recovered horse on Vathalars side.

“Not [i]listening[/i] Victor,” Adrian snapped peevishly. “You are not listening. He is a bad man. I can-...I can feel it.” She hesitated, shifting her weight and briefly looking away. One hand went up to scratch at her hair frustratedly.

Victor snapped back at Adrian: “Adrian- you’re being rude.” 

“Rude?” Adrian glared at where she presumed Victor would be. “Stupid, stinky Victor!” She fished out some sort of root from her rapidly dwindling bag of edible plants and lobbed it towards him. Of course, the caravan’s canvas roof blocked the impact, so it made a dull thump and rolled despondently onto the trail through one of the gaps between the wooden framework and the canvas sheet. “You should know. You should know. You aren’t watching hard enough.”

To say that Vathalar felt uncomfortable would have been one hell of an understatement. Often it could be observed that humans seemed to have an instinct about noticing when they were stared at, however in his case he just knew it. It really didn't require much mental effort to calculate what Adrian most likely was doing back there. A small, but noticeable part of him was very tempted to just start yelling and tell her to shut up or he'd reveal the truth about BOTH of them, but the reaction to this was rather unpredictable.

"So, why am I bad ? If you are so sure about it why don't you tell why you think I am ? You know... I can perfectly understand Victor's explanation, but I haven't heard anything like it from you for the past few hours." Yes, she could tell the truth, but right now he was already fully dependent on the others not taking her accusations for complete reality. They were in Kron-Nesis. They could report him to the next guard and he'd be in enough trouble. Nothing would change about that when she'd tell what she felt. Additionally him not reacting to those accusations at all would probably also make him much more suspicious.

There was a loud clatter of pots and assorted monster-hunting equipment as Adrian lurched forward, both hands gripping the back of the bench as she thrust her head out right next to Vathalar. “Do you want me to? Do you want to try that?!” she barked, sneering at him. “You know nothing about us.”

John snorted loudly, and Maellinn seemed to sink back into her tense purgatory, her mind buzzing with thoughts and things to say. 

“Adrian,” Maellinn finally managed, her eyes staring at John and her voice low, “why is the stranger bad?”

Vathalar's body twitched as Adrian suddenly approached him from behind. Yes, she was a very aggressive woman, but anyway he tried to give his voice a bit more of a cold sound. At least the best he could. "All I ask is that you stop claiming that I'd be bad in some way. I can assure you I am not. Not more than YOU are!" The latter was meant as a hint that probably only she could understand truly. The others would probably, and hopefully, interpret it a bit differently. More... harmless...

“Please leave,” Maellinn said shakily, her voice nervous from the sudden outburst from the stranger sitting next to her, “these- these are my clients, and my wagon.”

Victors eyes narrowed on Adrian, the cogs in his head turning as certain characteristics of the young girls behaviour began clicking together. He lumbered in silence as their argument went on before his face turned serious. “I think you should leave.” he said in agreement to Maellinn. “This will not work.” he added in a more aware tone. 

Vathalar sighed. “Alright then…” he muttered sadly. “It appears that it’s pretty pointless to continue the debate. Now would you do me a favor and stop the cart so I can get on my horse again ?”

“Of- of course,” Maellinn lifted her chin, feigning confidence. 

“Woah, John,” she called out to the ox, who promptly stopped. The wagon creaked to a halt. Adrian glared daggers at Vathalar as he mounted his horse and slowly trotted away, at which point she seemed to relax almost instantaneously. She slumped against the backboard of the bench and exhaled. “I am sorry, Maellinn. Bad man.”

“No, its okay,” Maellinn sighed. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath. Her posture slouched from her previous panicked position and she shook her head, “I trust your judgement, Adrian.”

“Get ye up!” The wagon began to move again, but this time with a lot less tension. Adrian wiggled on to the front bench and twisted around to peer at the retreating figure with a lot less intensity than she had before then turned to face Maellinn. “Who did you kill?”

Maellinn froze once more and started shaking her head as she thawed, “oh!”

“No-- no one,” she pointed the driving branch at John, “he did though.”

Maellinn paused, “it was a bad, bad man. I didn’t want to-- well with that hitchhiker-- what I mean to say is… I couldn’t imagine going through anything like that again, and, say he was a bad man, like the one John gored… it would be my fault he was here.”

“You say he is bad, he’s bad,” Maellinn nodded, “no one is going to be forced to be around those they don’t want to be on my baker’s wagon.”

“John is-...naked bison. Very gentle. But very angry. I understand,” Adrian nodded sympathetically, even going so far as to flash a brief smile to the driver.

“He is just defensive of his herd, that’s all,” Maellinn smiled back at Adrian, except her’s was much longer.

Victor grunted, kicking his horse to catch up to the wagon. “I think we should get to the nearest village and-...get our bearings,” he grumbled, giving Adrian a quick glance. “Animals need the rest. Maybe we’ll find work.”

Adrian nodded in agreement. She looked down at John’s back curiously and mumbled something about his distinct lack of hair before drawing her knees up and sitting cross-legged, watching the countryside slip past.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good plan,” Maellinn smiled contentedly, leaning back and letting her eyes follow the slipping horizon.