Leon
When she noticed the beast's disappearance after Rekkan spoke, she looked between the spot it had been standing in then back towards the wanderer with a confused glance. If only she was able to communicate, but for she would have to keep her questions for a later time. 

Knowing that if Marsila didn't leave soon and was caught between the fires, it would possibly end with her roasting alive which she wouldn't survive. She needed to leave quickly but when Rekkan also mentioned a boy, the shifter immediately forgot about her own danger and focused on her next task at hand.

Making her way towards the boy, she had thought he would react in some negative way towards a large panther nearing him but was proven wrong when he did the opposite. The young boy did looked nervous at first though it wasn't the large beast that scared him but due to what he had just gone through. 

Marsila lowered her body to the ground so he had a better chance at climbing on top of him, knowing it would be the fastest way to get him away from the burning village. His fingers laced with her fur as he pulled himself on top, painfully tugging at the fur as he did so yet the shifter refused to complain. 

Raising herself once she knew the boy was on her back, Marsila turned to face towards Eotum before racing off towards the rest of the villagers. She expected the Scholar to follow her unless he wanted to part ways after everything they had put him through.
Daniel
"Well." Eotum said with an air of finality, approaching the two in a situation of diverging paths as he guided several more people to larger crowd in front. "I think that's enough excitement for one day."

The fires were still going strong, their black smoke billowing haphazardly into the night sky as it spread their embers. Surely someone in the distance - whether it be a lonely traveler like he or citizen in another village - would see the bright orange flames light up the night sky and investigate it before going to a guard or some authority. It would be best to leave the scene quickly for all parties.

"Based on the direction you're going... You're taking them to Lake Fey, aren't you?" Asked the scholar, noting the position of the moon at this hour.
David
The group of villagers laid scattered around the eastern edge of the burning settlement. Many looked onward as their lives were burned to ash and cinder, thick black smoke carried upward to cover the star ridden sky in its gloomy cloak. Among the people were the elderly, the children and men and women crying or cursing their misfortune with little to no hope for the coming days. Their homes were gone, their lifetime commitment crushed by the destructive whims of a sadistic man and his small army of thugs and rogues. Some of the most influential figures gathered and formed a circle of debate. They needed to discuss their course of action, as painful as it was to let go of the ashen land they once called home.

Marsila's shifted appearance almost brought some reason to alarm were she not carrying the young boy the people saw being swallowed by another monster. They rejoiced in seeing him, as he did, letting go of the fur and hopping off to run to his father and mother. An emotional reunion brought some peace of mind to the villagers, who sought comfort in their lives being spared from the cold steel of mad men and the vicious tendrils of the searing fires. But there were still issues to resolve, issues that didn't let the small council rest while others clawed at the fleeting happiness of being alright. Their belongings were not. Only a few supplies were scavenged and barely a full set of transport was salvaged. They had two wagons and another, the carriage that brought Rekkan and Marsila just days before the dark day.

The scholar was no man to interrupt without necessity, but he approached the council to confirm their plans. Among them were three figures of higher importance. Elder Thomas, an old friend of the lady that sheltered the strangers and a firm believer that the villagers turned refugees should head into North Feyshore and to Brindelle. The city was the capital of the realm and known for receiving many people from the consequences of war in the south. He had cold and pale blue eyes that held bottomless wisdom. Antonius, a middle aged veteran turned farmer, wanted to head westward through Astoria to petition the head of state against Atovar. He had to pay for his crimes. He was also adamant in punishing the wandering swordsman, for he was the cause of the evil that destroyed the village. Antonius was a man of honor, respect and a former soldier. He had a stern figure, disciplined, and his experience in battle was straightforward. A pragmatic man, he hid spiritual and mental scars behind bright brown eyes. Last, but not least, was a hunter turning into the last years of his life, a decade younger than Elder Thomas. His name was Ymir. He was a large man from the north, some say he was born in the Witherlands. Ymir was bigger and broader than Antonius, standing at six-two to the veteran's five-eleven. He argued that the group should head to Lake Fey, where they could gather supplies for either option laid bare by the other two men. Thomas disagreed with Antonius. The king would not hunt a mercenary captain, nor should Rekkan be punished without a fair trial.

The words that came from Eotum sparked stares and a change in the frowns of the council. Ymir smiled, whereas Antonius grimaced.

"Aren't you the mad scholar?", the veteran stang like a viper, "We do not need the opinions of a lunatic. You helped that man and should be accounted as responsible as he was."

Thomas interjected. His wrinkled face drew a deep frown of worry. "Do not let your quest for justice cloud your judgment, Antonius. If you do not steel yourself, you will become vengeful and not just." Ymir nodded to the wise elders words. He stepped forward and pressed his idea onto the metaphorical table. "Before anything, we need food and tools. The banks of Lake Fey are the home for hunters and old friends. They could spare some equipment and let us hunt for game and forage."

Among the villagers was Priscilla, the first to spot the three figures coming down from the small hill northwest of their position. Rekkan was carrying Swass and Twiss accompanied him like he was the warrior's right arm. Mixed reactions erupted from the people. Some glared at the trio, while mostly the children pulled away from their families to run up and gather around the tall swordsman and the two mercenaries. They cheered them on as heroes, saviors of the little village. But what village was there to save? Rekkan turned away. He felt shame and sorrow, for he knew what the glares meant.

"Come back here!", shouted a parent, "Stay away from that man!"

Other parents joined him, shunning Rekkan with their murderous glares. They hated the man, sure he was to blame for the loss of their lives as they knew them. Priscilla rushed between the trio and the pack of hungry wolves looking for someone to blame, for someone to flay. "Wait! Rekkan didn't burn down the village!", she said, "He saved you from being killed, or worse!"

The wanderer pierced through the crowd of kids and stood next to the young woman. He appreciated what she was trying to do. "They're thinking I shouldn't have come here, Priscilla, and they are right." He said in a low and pained tone. "It's true. It's my fault the mercenaries came and torched the village. My... Apologies are not enough to fix this. They lost their homes, just like you did."

"But you fought for them! You fought for me and Bran, damn it!" A woman's tears swayed some of the faces in the angry mob. The council shifted its attention to the situation and moved there. Antonius led the group, he stomped the ground with his menacing walk. "There he is!" He shouted, pointing his right hands index finger. "We should put you down like the dog you are!"

Thomas shook his head. He was old and brittle and feared his body would give before he had the chance to intercept Antonius' curses. Ymir followed and stepped next to him, wrapping an arm around the old man and leading him onward. The elder thanked him and, with his help, cut Antonius off. "That's enough, Antonius, I will not let your emotions take the better of you!", he said and he coughed, "Guilty as he may be for whatever reason he was being hunted for, this man did not turn his back on the village when it needed most! We may have lost our houses, but not our hearts - - or our minds! Let us be grateful most of us are here and well. Sadly, the same cannot be said about her."

Her name faded with time, the lone woman whose family scattered after her husband's death. She was known as the old lady, a gentle being that was also portrayed as selfless and caring. She accepted Rekkan and Bran into her house and helped nurse them both to good health. Thomas' eyes watered. Tears held on to his lids, wiped by his knuckles and palms. "She wasn't the only one. One of their own died too. We all suffered from this ordeal. But-", the elder looked at Rekkan, his brows furrowed. "You acknowledge those men came here for you. You carry the weight of our loss on your shoulders. With that in mind, how do you plan to make up for the destruction of our home?"

The trial was underway, unofficial and unregistered. There was no need for ink and paper, word alone and a makeshift jury were enough. Rekkan was under the spotlight, the center of attention. All eyes were on him and many were judging, trying to get a grasp of the man. He sneered and let out a "Tsk." He was still carrying Swass, hands under the injured man's thighs as the latter's arms draped around his shoulders and hands held each other in front of his neck. He peeked with his eyes from over the right shoulder of the swordsman with a puzzled look on his face. Boy, was he not in the best place at that time.

"I know nothing more beyond swinging my sword.", the swordsman stated, holding his head high, "Thus, that is what I will do. You have to go somewhere and I will protect you all the way through. I will fight for you, hunt for you and give my life for you if I must, until you reach your destination. You have my word and my vow. That is all I can do."

The villagers looked puzzled, glancing at each other and back at the man held in trial. Antonius himself did not expect the man to be so prompt in giving his life for them. There was truth in his words and the veteran could not ignore that. He tried to think of some objection, but he lacked the trail of thought for it. Those were heavy words. "Tch! I will hold you to that!" He growled. Elder Thomas sketched a very soft smile from that. Perhaps Antonius' little change of heart was enough to sway the others. There was a rumble in parallel conversations between the villagers. They still hated Rekkan, some of them. He had blood in his hands, for the old lady was loved and he was the apparent cause of her death. In the end, they reasoned a strong warrior could be useful. The roads were filled with highwaymen and slavers. Where there were caravans of impoverished people there were vultures eager to prey on the weak. They had some people capable of fighting, but one that was frightening to a whole group of mercenaries was a boon. 

"We are in agreement that such a promise might be enough to sustain your freedom and your life.", the elder claimed, "Hence, eloquent warrior, may you keep your word and deliver us to our new home. You shall join us in our exodus. It will be hard, but I hope you earn our trust again."

It was a strange turn of events, but the children rejoiced in what they did not understand, with their limits being kept at the fact that the warrior would stay with them. They crowded around him, Twiss and Priscilla, gripping his clothes and those of his friends. The swordsman received a full minute or two of childish abuse until the parents ushered the kids back to their side. There was still the problem of packing up and leaving. The night had settled a couple of hours ago and journeying in the dark was dangerous for a caravan of around fifty people. They chose to delve deeper into the woods, away from the burning village, to set up a small camp.

When he was able to breathe, Rekkan walked to Marsila, who was still in her black panther form. The villagers were a bit naive, but it wouldn't be long until one or other questioned her presence as an animal and wondered where the girl had gone off to. To explain that, Rekkan took the liberty of making up a tall tale of speaking with animals, calling upon them when he needed most. That also seemed to explain the monster, though there was skepticism in some faces. It would do. It should, at least for the time being.

Fast forward to the same night, an hour or two later.

A few fires were scattered in a clearing in the woods. The group made out of Eotum, Marsila, Priscilla, Swass and Twiss surrounded one of them. The medicine woman, as some people took to calling Priscilla, mourned the death of Bran in silence. She found some comfort in what Rekkan shared with her, of seeing Bran's spirit off as his vessel was burned at the pyre. He was honest, saying that Bran was protective of her until the end, even though his soul was filled with rage. In the end, he did find serenity. The world of spirits was something she was still absorbing, but somehow she believed the wanderer. She had to.

"How are you, buddy?" Twiss asked Swass. The injured mercenary received proper treatment from Priscilla and an ointment from Eotum that helped alleviate the pain and quicken his recovery. "Total, dude. I'm total." Opia. The young man was feeling quite fine at that moment, laying next to the fire. He was warm and comfortable under a fur provided from the limited supplies of the villagers.

There wasn't a good moment for Marsila to change back. She would probably have to spend the night in her animal form, as asking for a set of clothes could make others suspicious. They were still in a region where humans shunned magic and magical creatures to an extent. If she revealed herself to be a shapeshifter, maybe the villagers wouldn't be so keen in having her around. Rekkan thought of creeping in the darker hours, when everyone was fast asleep, to steal something for her, or, like he explained to her, borrow some clothes. They could find an excuse for her disappearance later as well. However silent, the drifting swordsman sat next to the black panther. He crossed his legs. The young shifter was to his right and his right hand was on top of her, palm laying on the nape of her neck. His fingers were idle in the wake of their movement, scratching her black fur and flesh.

"Just a couple more hours, Marsila. Just a couple more..." He muttered and comforted her. Somehow, he had the idea she did not like being in that form. Rekkan turned his head to the left and gazed at the middle aged scholar. "Sorry for dragging you into this."

He showed unprecedented humility. It was the first time, in a long time or ever in his drifter life, that he felt the weight of his actions in others. A whole village was burned down due to a silly bounty cast by criminals and made a game of by some twisted figure he only knew the alias of. Rekkan felt that his path was smothering others and that hurt his pride as a man that valued freedom above all else. He was a burden, a chain that shackled others like Marsila to his spiral of death and destruction.

The night was a sleepless one, introspective and eerily calm. He - or the people around him - was lucky enough for the dark to not come and seek him out, like many other nights when he was in his lonesome. It was something to be grateful for, surely, but Rekkan was worried, perhaps even paranoid. He kept himself awake, waiting for a mild talk with Eotum before the scholar drifted to sleep, the dream world. Twiss and Swass, along with Priscilla, were already fast asleep.

What of Eotum and Marsila?
Leon
She had expected the uneasiness her presence had brought to the large group when she dropped the boy from her back and it made her almost desperate to change back. When in her human form, no one took her a threat. 

Marsila decided it was best to spend some time alone, away from the Villagers to allow them some peace of mind whilst she gathered her thoughts. She knew her feline form was daunting to many, she didn't accept what she was herself so how was she to expect humans to? It proved a smart choice when the villagers began to harass Rekkan and Eotum, blaming them for the destruction of their homes. Her presence would have only made things worse. 

The shifter kept herself invisible which didn't prove difficult due to her sleek panther form, her midnight coloured coat providing camouflage among the darkness as she scouted the surrounding forest. After the mercenaries and bounty hunters had retreated from the village, Marsila couldn't rid the rage filled glare the leader had sent their way from her mind. She knew this was far from over in his eyes, so Marsila was on edge. 

After spending her time observing the forest for any suspicious sounds or scents, the shifter felt somewhat at ease and made her way back towards the group of villagers, in time to witness them allowing Rekkan to lead their way to safety. If she had been in her human form, her brows would have been furrowed, greatly annoyed about them granting freedom like they were in the position to do so.

An annoyed growl scratch at her throat until Rekkan made his way towards her. 

After the group of villagers spread off to surround the few camp fires, Marsila had made herself comfortable with the group who glared towards her in the least negative way which happened to be the two unknown mercenaries and the two she trusted. She had been staring towards the flickering flames that gave her warmth from the cool air along with her fur coat when Rekkan had sat beside her, instantly relieving her from troubling thoughts when scratched lightly at her neck. Lifting her head up, she placed it his lap as it provided her comfort rather than the ground she had been laying on. It was obvious what he meant by a few hours, so she let out a small huff in response to show her annoyance before shifting her gaze towards the sleeping Mercenaries. 

Marsila didn't trust them at all, even if Rekkan did. They had been hunting the two of them down for the bounty on the Wanderer's head so it made her suspicious. It was rare for someone to change sides so easily that she assumed they only did so when they noticed they were on the losing side of that battle. Something she would need to talk to Rekkan about when she got her voice back. It was what kept Marsila awake, unable to sleep as she feared what could happen if she did so.