“Oh lighten up.” Ezlan bellowed louder than necessary, as he turned back from his position at the front of the group where he had been eagerly leading and went to throw a heavy arm over Eomer. Sill not wearing a shirt, a heavy rucksack sat awkwardly over the Careabeans wide shoulders, supported by a leveraging strap held firmly in one hand.  In the other he had been slowly emptying his third waterskin. (It was safe to assume it wasn’t water.) 
“Let’s just hit the closest farm house and see how things go from there.” His voice carried the casual nonchalance of a man without any worry or forethought. 
The cocky arrogance of a man who honestly believed nothing bad could befall him. While the scars running over his bare skin would beg to differ, but for him it was all just a matter of perspective. 
“So my good friend, point the way.” He says with a wide smile, reiterating his decision with a firm clap to Eomer’s back, spilling some of the waterskins contents over him in the process. 

Eager and excited Ezlan would pick up the pace to go see what and or who might await them. Always keen to have an audience.