OneEyedChurro — Roleplayer Guild

Marcel had begun to grow tired- comfortable, even, now that he was sat atop one of the covered wagons instead of walking alongside it, in addition to having a somewhat more peaceful mind from Hemming joining him. His eyelids had just begun to grow heavy when Bhirit loudly cleared her throat- Marcel chuckled seeing Hemming's reaction. The former blacksmith mused around the thought of how Hemming would react to some of the habits his father had. Gaivus didn't seem to notice Marcel's mirth, and eventually he ducked back into the wagon bed with surprising grace and Marcel was quick to join him, sitting on the opposite side, his left shield-bearing arm resting on a knee to help support its growing weight. “If we’re to be wagon-mates for the remainder of the day, we should get to know each other a little better, no? Did you grow up in Belencrest? What about a family? A wife, perhaps?" Something made Marcel hesitate to answer. He was never a fan of talking for the sake of filling a void of silence but Gaivus had a point; something still seemed off, though. There was an air of un-caring surrounding the questions that was amplified by the merchant's sly smile- the wry grin only businessmen seemed to have. "Indeed I did grow up in Belencrest, worked there as a smith for a long time before joining the Guard," He skipped over his time spent in the City Guard, but from his experience there wasn't a huge difference in duties between the two, until now, anyway. "Father owned the smith I worked at- never knew my mother. The rest of my family in Belencrest aren't exactly.. people people, if you know what I mean." He glanced from Gaivus to the diligently working Gisele and caught her eyes again, as he had before. It suddenly clicked- Gaivus' smile, his questions, Gisele's repeated glances- Marcel used his good hand to scratch his beard, it was all he could do to keep his face from flushing. "Uh, no. No wife." Marcel and Gisele were sure to be speaking when they reached Cossler's. "What about you two?" He aimed the question at both of them, though Marcel honestly couldn't give a damn about Gaivus at this point. Marcel's fiddling with the shield straps were interspersed with similar glances at Gisele.

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