[i]Ah, yes,[/i] Asbel thought with an inward grimace. [i]Nothing has changed at all.[/i] The events of the night before had evaporated with the worst of the rain, and if Frey was going to return to being a cruel little thorn in everyone's side, Asbel would presume likewise. If the prince needed help, he ought to ask for it, not insist his only comfort was to antagonize anyone who happened to be around him. And if he was going to act as though there had been no kindness between them at the waterside, then so be it.

The rain had stopped, but Asbel simmered in his own personal storm as they walked. Augustine, again, held conversations on and off with Cassius, though their talking was strained, as if both of them were unsure of their footing now that such strangeness had accosted Frey in the dark. But the dragon never led them astray, and Augustine never faltered in his vigilance, so the phoenix allowed his attention to wander.

"Stop." The general's order called him back to the present more quickly than Frey's question, and Asbel halted at once. He blinked owlishly at the surrounding forest, and raised a hand to pull at his hair, only to find it gone. The back of his neck prickled, though from the expressions on the faces of his companions, he was not the only one to feel it.

"What do you think that is, Cassius?" Augustine asked. The dragon shrugged, and Augustine cast a wary glance at the sky. "It feels like gathering lightning. We should have brought a weather mage with us." He began, still cautious, to shrug off his pack and settle it at the side of their makeshift path. "Time for lunch, I think."

At the words, Asbel sank gratefully into the rough brush and ankle-biting grass. "I am not hungry," he insisted, and though he had eaten nothing since the night before, the words were true.

"Nonsense," Augustine countered, pushing an apple and a crescent of bread into the phoenix's hands. "You're worn out already. You must eat something. Come here, Frey; I'll give you your rations, too."