As the two of the four entered into a spat amongst themselves, the ambient silence of the night began to fall over them all. What little activity and life came with light, darkness put out, and between their conversations and deeds among the confines of their shared prison, all now that was left to hear otherwise was the dull roar of the torches. The crackle of their slow burning pitch and turning flames, how they cast precious light and some semblance of warmth upon the stony walls. Were it not for these things, the fire and the thick walls, one could only entertain the types of things that would be scouting them out now. 

The militia guardsman who maintained the prison, as he had been each night before, was absent as well; not a clink of keys or sniffing of dogs or any such variety to be expected like to the far more civilized west. Here was desolation, true and unadulterated, but at least this time they were not alone - although that could well have been for the better at this point. Regardless if that were true or not, they had entered the first hour of night as one. The real question was, would they see another together? And if so, how many more? Some of them were marked, stained in some invisible way that only a few knew what to do with, while others were just drifters on the wind. Without such poignancy in mind, it seemed they would trade words for the time being and the night was young after all, perhaps in due time they would come to recognize they shared more in common than they had apart. Yet that? That would likely only come with an act of fate, a fate none of them were even aware of quite yet...

[@BangoSkank][@Lord Wyron][@Hellion][@TyrannosaursRex]