Tarsha
*The knight, limping, walked out of the forest onto a rough dirt road going on the edge of a meadow. After a while of standing, motionless, she took off the helmet and dropped it onto the path. She sighed and kneeled, picking it up, then slowly walked along the road, staggering. Wiping blood stains off her face, she continued walking in hope of finding a village - or at least meeting someone that could help her get to one. Equila hoped someone other than her escaped the massacre and would wander somewhere around that forest - and so she continued following the dirt path, in hope of coming across the supposed survivors.*
Mathew
*A single Chair was semingly walking...? Trought the forest in the same path that equila, even tough he was a few metter in front of the knight, whatever this chair might be it didn't notice the presence of the knight or was just ignoring it, continuing is walking down the path, perhaps it knew where was the next town, perhaps it was just an illusion,perhaps it is a dangerous beast that will attack the knight at first sight, but nothing was certain about this walking chair.*
Josephine
Over hills green as the springtime a boy was chasing a lonely cloud, white as snow it bleated as his soft voice came out with childish merriment. One day soon he would adore to capture the lonely little lamb for a time ago cross the sea those he once held before roamed this realm together with him, his flock of sheep creatures he had grown attached toward a time ago. The lone scamp wore a dingy cloak thrown over his body his arms wrapped in gauze as he stumbled awkwardly toward the lonesome wooly creature, his dull grey eyes' seemed nearly devoid of any sort of life yet something still beat in his chest pushing him forward as he attempted to capture the lonely creature his intent was pure. Yet even so no matter how kind a persons gesture may very well be a young animal acted upon instinct it was retreating worried the barefoot young one was after him for sustenance, as he wandered after the lonely white cloud sometime soon he would stumble through the path where a person garbed in shimmering steel trudged. 

Fithoras' clumsy body stumbled nearly falling over upon his knees as his face tore from the sheep, his features twisting from bewilderment toward which seemed worry seeing her caused his heart to skip like the fleeting lambs' body. As he fell over backward tufts of his own fluffy white hair hanging over his features landing upon his rump he would attempt to shuffle himself aback from the approaching knight as though he feared her a slight bleat broke from his lips. By instinct the youth threw his hands up defensively a curious light seemed to nearly permeate his rugged cloak the wooden staff he had clutched rolled off harmlessly from his grasp, he couldn't even work anything off of his tongue for the merely seeing this lands form of knight terrified the boy which smelt of sap.
Tarsha
*A regular chair in the middle of a pathway would be puzzling, to say the least. But a walking chair... The explanation for this was simple - magic. Equila did not know much about it, but she was pretty sure it's not something to be meddled with. Placing her hand on the dagger's handle, ready to draw the weapon at any time, she approached the chair cautiously. But it seemed unintelligent, focused only on walking forward. And then, she noticed someone else - a boy, looking like a shepherd.*
"There's no need to be afraid..." *She said, quietly.*
Mathew
*The Chair might have seemed unintelligent for the knight but it was far from the truth, as he heard the sound of the twigs and leaves crunching from the steps of the knight and the talking that was hapening a few metter behind him, he would of course turn around to see who was stalking him too see a dude whit an armor and a hand near the daggers handle and a boy behind him*
``who the fuck are the both of you.. Let me guess, you are either bounty hunters, or hunters, because i don't know who else who try to sneak up on me like a total creep whit their HAND on the handle of their daggers.``
*He would then mumble to himself*
``can't i have ONE fucking day whitout having someone either anoying me or trying to murder me for a few coins``
Josephine
The childs lips dared not break for he was faced by naught one, but two peculiar strangers stood before a face brimming with uncertainty. For he had learned each and every person he had come cross upon his journey in this 'other world' brandished naught a warm gesture instead brandishing their blades and fingers, labeling him as something 'undead' even if it weren't entirely the truth. Often did people judge which they could clearly see before their eyes', just as a gentle shepherd did toward him this woman was nothing more than another of those whom chased him away like a mere rat. Fithora hesitated his reckless spirit urged him to topple upon his knees reaching for his lost oaken staff, cradling it betwixt his dirtied thumbs shying his face into his shoulders.

Fithora felt unease near any soul whom wore plate armor within the Salvanian area and yet even a simple bundle of words ushered so carefully into his ears was enough to encourage the boy to reconsider his feelings. He was such a gullible creature not yet accustomed toward the greyer scale this realm could dip into a piece of a much more childish aspect, his luminescent greys' shifted toward her meeting the woman's gaze for a passing second he bumbled out through his throat. "T-truly this tis ever so removed from t-thee feelings of ire t'witch fuel thee fires of those awful clumps of sod...? O' yet mine wooly friend t'was scared b-betwixt... O' O' t'whats' this?!!!" The childs interest seemed to peak as he heard the foul words pour from the crude hunk of furniture, his eyes' sparkled as he stumbled upward pushing caution toward the wind his bare toes trampled toward where the four legged creature sat. His body wouldn't stop moving he kept walking around it staring at the thing tempted to simply jump upon the chair, such words as fuck and so forth weren't common cuss words where the Macen had stumbled from he jumped as it spoke further. "Fuck! T'what funny words it doth pour, hmm... Yet mine tongue tingles

Tis nearly like thee earthen mother doth tell me naught to spittle such words! Truly you doth remind me of what thee kindly soothers of Gaia oft told me whilst checking upon mine health... A story where a magus could usher life within brooms, chairs and ever ever so much more!" He was so giddy the boy neglected to answer a single question that brushed into his ears it was as though he had cotton stuffed into them, Fithora would bounce up and down splashing in the mud preparing to pounce atop the living chair if the chair named chair wished to not be ridden by a energetic youth he would do well to shift himself out of the boys way.