"Even spirits don't attack without some goal," Cyrdic replied, accepting the cup from his companion and downing it in two huge gulps. There was still just a swig left, but he decided to keep it there for when he wanted to savor it. For the moment he wanted to loosen up a bit. "Or cause. Ulric knows I wish I knew the reason. But even trees make tracks if they walk..." 

His handsome face was grim, and he was so lost in thought that it took Camilla nudging him to bring him back to reality. He gave an 'oh' and started the fire with his flint and tinder, igniting the plentiful timber in a blaze of flame. Immediately the room simultaneously brightened and lengthened in shadowed darkness, but it had a welcome warmth to it. His broad shoulders lowered a bit and he relaxed, realizing just how tired he was. Camilla likely was too. He looked at her, dark hair shining in the firelight. Even after all their adventures, he couldn't believe how attractive the dancer was. Shadows danced across her full bosom, and he realized she caught him staring with her sharp eyes. 

Initially he felt awkward, but the rough solder just placed a hand on his face and laughed. "Sorry, Cami. I'm just thinking we need a godsdamned vacation," he muttered in his growling baritone, stepping over to the couch and placing himself on it beside the fire. He chose to then finish the brandy, sipping it slowly before he drained the cup, a satisfied sigh escaped his lips. His chin was feeling itchy, he noticed. He would need to shave soon. "When we go tomorrow, I think we'll both need to grab some axes." 

His broadsword had been sharpened, the sheathed weapon leaning against the corner of the wall.