[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color] [@Crimson Paladin] Gerard nodded, having heard what he needed to from the first sentence his senior compatriot had uttered. [color=goldenrod]"Mm. Then, I've nothing to worry myself over, this time at least."[/color] He just about managed to mask his inward sigh of relief with the flash of a smile. The matter of his personal coat had once again been successfully kicked down the line, away from sudden urgencies that always sprung up on a man who lived like Gerard had for so long now... Granted, he knew well that it would hunt him down and pin him eventually. If nothing else, all knights had symbols of their lives and meanings, in one way or another. Either the matter would eventually find him again, or... [color=goldenrod]"Maybe I'll sort it out, should I show well today in the melee. If not, I—"[/color] His eyes followed Fleuri's, settling upon the frame of an old man, lingering on the edge of the hill. His frame was slight compared to the two of them, both in the beginnings of their fighting primes, but a closer look revealed neither stiffness nor slack in his posture. He was straight over his weight, contained within himself. Such befit that distinctive style of blade upon his hip, and the robes that adorned him, familiar to Gerard only by way of the uninvited guest that had been foisted onto them all by Merilia. Where Fleuri affected an unfamiliar bow, Gerard freely stood and narrowed his eyes quizzically. Rui aside, this man was the first he'd met from that faraway place of blossoms and foxes and painterly vistas, he was fairly sure. [color=goldenrod]"A long way west for you, in any case."[/color] he added on. [color=goldenrod]"Chasing Reon down as she sets?"[/color] Ah, wait. The faith might not have been so understood there as here— he knew [i]that[/i] was true of the northerly wastes of Barukstaed, with their deities. So when you put an ocean and continent and, for all he knew, another ocean in the gap between their homelands...