The black haired man tipped his head a bit, looking over Lantus. Now, there was a man that he admired. He would bend the knee quickly for him, but he knew that the commander thought lowly of him. Darrian didn’t care. As long as he raised his sword in the Exalt’s honor, he didn’t mind what he thought of him. However, if the gray haired man stepped a hair’s breadth out of bounds, he would have his head for treason. His blue eyes flashed a bit at his question. 
[b]”I am here because I grow bored by being at Ylisstol. It has been ages ever since I have risen a sword against something other than a training dummy.”[/b] Darrian told the commander, an angry look flitting into his gaze. He watched him for a moment. He wondered what exactly Lantus thought of him. As was said before, probably low and degrading comments. The young Exalt clasped his hands behind his back and glanced over at the end of the tent. [b]”I wish to be on the front lines. I want to see the breaths of the Shepherds leaving their mauled bodies after I trampled them with my feet. I want to see the ground run crimson with their blood. I want to hear the screams of their dying men pierce the air.”[/b]
It was then that Xanxus woke, making one of his usual snarky remarks. Even though the other leader did not bow as he wanted him to, he showed his loyalty in other ways. Darrian smirked a bit, quirking a brow at the older soldier. [b]”I know nothing about any children that I have.”[/b] he told him, crossing his arms. [b]”I think you are the one that has a bunch of bastards running around Ylisstol.”[/b] he didn’t want to know anything about any children that he might have. That meant a scramble to the throne and him protecting it.
[b]”In all seriousness, I wish to fight alongside you both when we meet the Shepherds. There are only twenty or so left, as I sent my men to do a body count. Fourteen hundred and seventy seven lay dead after the purge. Of course, some bodies might have gotten lost or dragged off to be buried, so there might be less survivors than we expected. Either way, they can’t dream of facing off against our men.”[/b] he glanced between the two, wondering what they would say. [b]”Don’t worry. I’m just as skilled as either of you are with your swords.”[/b]
 
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Ambra glanced up in alarm when the bandit or whatever raised his hand to his head. Yep, really bad dreams. She suffered from them, occasionally… ones of Scipio and other Shepherds. Screaming, horrible, horrible screaming and pleading… she closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, only opening when she felt someone looking at her. It was a pair of violet eyes, ones so intense that she got lost in them. That color! It was almost the color of mountain flowers. So pretty. She wished that she had some. Maybe they would brighten up this dumb old room. 
[b]”Zaino. Yes, my name’s Ambra. I come from… well… I don’t really know where I come from.”[/b] Ambra sighed, rubbing her hands together and smiling a bit. [b]”And please. Don’t try to repay me. As I said before, I love tending wounds. Seriously, if you try to do something for me in return, I’ll be very angry indeed.”[/b] yet, she said this as she smiled and giggled at him a bit. 
The door pushed open and a woman peeked in. Ambra jumped in fear, but saw a friendly face. She didn’t seem interested in hurting them. She was even offering food! [b]”Yes, we would love a good meal. I haven’t had cheese or fruit in what seems like decades.”[/b] she smiled back at Trina. Her stomach was growling now, and loud. The smell of the herbs was making her belly gurgle. Of course, the herbs smelled very fragrant and many of them could be used as spices for meats. Like the lavender. 
[b]”It’s better than swallowing another stomach full of sand. My name’s Ambra by the way. His name is Zaino. He was injured because… um… a bandit attacked our caravan.”[/b] she faked worry. [b]”The mean bandits who attacked vowed to come back to get our women as soon as they were routed. Zaino here got in the way. Got struck by a poisoned blade. Don’t worry, he’s okay now.”[/b]