As Heisenbach left, Amal took another sip of the waterskin. He could tell the fellow liked Emmaline, as many men did. But he never did get jealous, even if he portrayed himself as territorial at times. He wiped the last bit of red juice from his mouth, a small droplet sliding down his neck into his colorful vest and top. The fellow was right, it would likely be cold that night, and so Amal pulled at a thick blanket he had procured on the road, letting his strong back rest against his pack. 

"Let's warm up, yes?" He asked, pulling Emmaline towards him to sit on his lap, the two now getting comfortable and snuggling close together, her backside on his pelvis and legs lovingly entwined, their faces just beside one another. Emmaline felt his strong arms slither around her, the sounds of the camp a low murmur in the background as the sun's light began to fade and grow as black as a necromancer's heart. 

"We will be in the Border Kingdoms tomorrow, if we make good time." He told her, watching her with a smile to see if she had a plan in mind or anything to say. 

Amal had grown up in a country full of sin and debauchery, not the least of which was an unhealthy dose of misogyny. Had he been raised 'properly' or had been a man of means, he might have been lured into that line of thinking. Allah knows even men as poor as he treated women like prized objects at best and exposable commodities per the norm. But he did not think so, having a strange sense of chivalry in his own, bizarre way. Plus, Emmaline and he seemed kindred spirits. They both lied and cheated, just in different ways, and never did they cheat one another. He respected her as much as he respected any man, even if they did treat one another like objects at the proper times. 

"I hear it a land full of opportunity, where one can carve out their own homes and even kingdoms. I do not think that is entirely true, but if it lives up to even a bit of its reputation, it sounds..." He tried to think of the next word, still trying to master riekspiel's more complicated words. "Loo-...?" 

"Lucrative?" Emmaline asked. 

"Yes," he said with a pleased expression, before switching to Arabyan, leaning in as his smile grew more sly. "I'm getting pretty good, right?" He slowly, gently bit under her chin, and then kissed her neck, adding the barest hint of tongue. "Maybe not as good as I am in other areas, but..."