[Center][H3][colour=2F4F4F][b]Gentle[/b][/colour][/h3][/Center][hr]

He might not have been much good at reading faces - with how heavy the years sat on them, his eyes couldn't do much reading of [i]anything[/i] now - but his ears where as about as good at their job since the day they first started working, and if he wasn't mistaken he thought he could hear a welling of grief from the huntress when she spoke of her father. Either the wound was fresh, or the hurt ran bone deep. He could relate. The bond between father and child was a strong one, sacrosanct in his opinion, if that counted for anything. He resisted the urge to ask more about the subject. He wouldn't want someone sticking their nose into his past for no other reason than to satisfy idle curiosity, wasn't right he did it to anyone else. 

He fell silent while listening to the others, nodding appreciatively at the horned-lady's questions. Smart enough to ask what the rest of them ignored. Good. Needed someone with brains on an operation like this, and God's knew he wasn't supplying them. The masked-wizards response didn't fill him with as much confidence, especially talk of his [i]'first trick'[/i]. Wizards tricks were rarely matters a-body could take lightly. And the way he said [i]'humanity'[/i] sparked Gentle's interest. Something about the way the mage said it put his hackles up, like he didn't count himself among their number. The wizard was a mystery, and one that had more layers to it than a simple mask. He needed watching.

His attention was snatched by the swords-woman snapping at the hunter. Gentle shook his head slightly at the scene, thick hand scratching at his ear again. Couldn't say part of him didn't agree with the haughty half-elf, what use was an archer without a bow after all, but her attitude left something to be desired. Strutting around like a lion on parade, bellowing abuse at volunteers who had come to fix what sounded like [i]her[/i] mistake, angry at the world and everyone in it, looking like she lived off a strict diet of fire and whetstones. He didn't know whether to grin or grimace, settled for snorting a bemused breath through his nose. She would have made a half decent 'taur. Hell, he'd been no different at her age, cept he'd been a touch uglier and a bite less controlled. For her sake he hoped she didn't make the same mistakes he had. 

He cocked his head towards the huntress. Took a toll on a person, being dressed down like that. Soldiers took it, because that was what they were getting paid for, one way or another. But when it came to volunteers the same rules didn't necessarily apply. Nobody want's good intentions repaid with bad attitudes. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, the old saying went. Thought he'd lighten the mood, if he could. He'd already bought the King's bodyguard's displeasure once already today, figured he might as well keep paying the toll if it kept her focus on him and off the others. Maybe keep some spirits up instead of dampening them. [color=2f4f4f]"On the sunny side if you run out of arrows you can always ask to borrow the stick she keeps slotted up her arse. Need a balistae to fire it, mind."[/color] He muttered it softly, a joke for the huntress and him, though not so quiet the others wouldn't hear it if they listening.