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It was times like these Auberon was thankful his family rarely travelled. In his earlier years, Auberon often lamented that his father owned no southern manor where he could spend the winter in more temperate climes. If little Aubie spent more than ten minutes on this carriage, he was certain the boy would've been more content with shivering. To make matters worse, Auberon - ever the chivalrous one - had even foolishly volunteered for a seat in the middle rather than one of the more stable seats on the outside, with nothing to hold onto when the carriage lurched but the fellow students packed in next to him and without even a decent window view to preoccupy his attention.

It could've been worse, he reminded himself, as he quickly darted a hand downward to provide something of a cushion for Derec's poor head when they hit another bump and the redhead swayed dangerously close to knocking himself out on Auberon's kneecap. Forget combat training, he'd be concussed before they even arrived at this rate. His only reprieve was the muffled sounds of the Kalonics discussing where to take a break over the clattering of hooves and creaking of the wagons. The earlier mention of this being only [i]half[/i] the trip was quietly vacated from his mind, and the realization that they'd have to weather this [i]again[/i] on the way back was locked away in the deepest part of his subconscious, never to emerge. Better to focus on the destination - they'd be doing combat training at last. Well, 'at last' was a stretch. It had only been a few days, hardly a significant wait, but history was a poor substitute for the rush of even a simulated battlefield, of shaping his Lions into the proud killing machines their banner portrayed, of crushing the other houses underfoot. His divine lineage demanded nothing less than unconquerable glory, and that couldn't be achieved in a classroom, no matter how inspiring the great men of old being taught were.

When they finally came to a stop, his choice of seat took one last opportunity to spite him; Auberon was practically the last one to be allowed off. Despite the uncouthness of the act, Kellen seemed to have the right idea simply vaulting over the people between him and the great outdoors. Good timing too, he'd been sitting on Auberon's cape and it made any movement of his left shoulder incredibly unwieldy. He'd have to get used to managing that thing. The rest of his new uniform was sleek and closely tailored, with little bagginess or room to be caught on anything, but that new cape had proven to be nothing but a headache so far. Twice he'd gotten it snagged on a doorknob now. The brilliant azure was a fine addition from an aesthetic standpoint - it made his rank clearly identifiable and compensated for the lack of gold embellishment that his old uniform had possessed - but functionally? It was a mess. 

The boy rotated his arm for the first time in a few hours to ward off stiffness as he finally climbed down from the carriage. [color=ffd700]"If this keeps up, I might have to beg the professors to simply let me walk back,"[/color] He complained to no one in particular. He'd probably be less sore than if he actually took the carriage, too. Though grabbing a drink from the river was tempting, Auberon stuck to a quick stretching regimen as a way to unwind from the trip, at least until he had a chance to make sure they weren't downstream from the village latrines. Wouldn't do him any good to show up to combat practice wound up and ready to pull a muscle with every sweep of his axe. He needed to establish himself quickly in front of the prince and anyone else who thought they might have a chance in the year's competitions, because the rest of his House certainly didn't look like they'd be turning any heads this early. Derec and Lienna probably had no formal combat training before this, and peasant levies weren't exactly renowned for their skill or even ability to survive outside of a shield wall if they [i]had[/i] been trained. Kellen was his saving grace and, Goddess willing, the boy would be far more impressive than his demeanor suggested.

Coincidentally, Kellen's talk of the students arming themselves was probably the best thing Auberon had heard from him yet. Well, not really, because that implied they were in trouble, but the sentiment behind it was comforting. Not that it sounded too confident either- it didn't matter; he was nitpicking. He followed the others' gaze to where the riders were approaching. The professors looked too tense for this to have been scheduled. Michail had grabbed a weapon, but if the students hadn't been ordered to do so, it was likely just a precaution. But would the staff really ask a bunch of untrained kids to defend themselves even if there was danger? Whatever, better to be safe and look foolish than to get caught with their pants down by potential brigands or whoever was brave enough to charge right toward a passing caravan. Michail was doubtlessly capable but he couldn't be everywhere at once if multiple assailants came to join their two friends. Assuming even half of the students in the Rose Unit had what passed for combat aptitude, though? They could hold off any number of common highwaymen. Especially ones dumb enough to approach a group that size with hostility.

[color=ffd700]"Couldn't hurt,"[/color] The blond responded as he paced toward the weapon cart with less urgency than the situation might've demanded. [color=ffd700]"If we're wrong, I'll repack the wagon myself."[/color]

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