[right][h3][color=c1cdcd]Raine Provostus[/color][/h3][/right]
[color=gray][indent]Raine shifted the leather bag that rested against the middle of his back, the strap sliding off his shoulder as his footsteps slowed to a stop. He didn’t look back at his two companions as he listened to their own footfalls catching up to him, meanwhile his hand sliding the shortened trident back into his belt. The prospect of carrying the Blood Saint to move faster was definitely a convenient one - in the sense that they’d be much faster without her slowing them down.

But in the same hand, Provostus didn’t know if he really wanted to do so. Although it had been some time since he casted away his more monstrous side, he still tried to distance himself from the temptations of blood as much as possible. And the blood of a Saint was definitely a temptation he didn’t want to test out. Luckily, it seemed he didn’t have to, as the girl responded to the proposition herself.

[color=White]"Huh?"[/color] was all Adelicia could reply when she finally caught up with the hunters, eyes fixed on Victor with a look of confusion on her gentle features. As soon as the suggestion was made, it was impossible not to entertain the idea; it was impossible to stop wishfully imagining scenarios where Dietrich of the Shining Wing, or men like him, would be compelled to scoop her up in his army to carry her off into the sunset. At least, as long as it took for the realization to set in that these hunters were hardly as charming as Dietrich - or that they were hardly men at all anymore.

Confounded, she declined: [color=White]"I should think not. I'm no invalid."[/color]

And the hunter had no intention of carrying her if she didn’t want to be carried. Unless it was a life-death situation, of course. His hand moved away from his belt and to the bag hoisted in front of his body, digging around in it for a short moment before withdrawing the bottom brim, and then in turn the entirety, of his usually-adorned helmet. The bag was fastened back over his shoulder again before he adorned the topmost piece of his armor, nestling it into position on his head.

[color=C1cdcd]“Come on, then.”[/color] He spoke through the helm, his voice more obstructed than before and having a slight echo-like quality, but still made louder through effort to ensure they’d heard him. He punctuated his words by picking up the pace, though obviously not going as fast as he could, in order for the Blood Saint to keep up.
[/indent][/color]
[hr][center][color=c1cdcd]Victor, Adelicia[/color][/center]