Pauline
*Lucrum would keep his distance, or try to make use of the lack there was. As Terrel was perusing him, Lucrum was looking for the weakness in his armor. . . It had been forever since he had to fought an armored opponent seeing his only options: Forerm, Thigh, Armpit or... His face. A thought emerged as he stared holes into his anatomy. He found his point of interest. 

Lucrum lowered his guard but, this time keeping the Estoc in the center of his body assuming a plow guard.*


*Lucrum would jab towards his face and backpedal. Keeping the point there to ward him from approaching; keeping him at bay, Lucrum watched his waist. Which way would he pívot? To determine what way he'll swing next. He broke the silence of the duel, in attempt to clear the air, or distract him entirely. He'd speak with tinges of guilt in his voice, as he focused on the mask.*

". . . I fear for you and Shaori!— I tried to get to you!—TERREL!"

*Lucrum's breathing would grow shaky as he tried to think of what to say whiling try to keep the pig from cutting him down. His eyes and heart race as strands of blonde stuck to his forehead. He'd feel his back against a tree, with no more space behind him he stood his ground. . . Watching for his moment.*
Katherine
*Terrel found himself having to shift back to avoid the jab to his face, teeth grinding at the purpose behind it. It seemed Lucrum was all prepared to kill him right then and there. The Elf could hear Lucrum yelling out to him, his eyes flashing at the Macen as he would slowly follow him to the tree he found himself backed into. A stance he took, any closer and Elf would probably end up impaling himself in the pursuit. A flash, a single arc of the blade before Terrel would suddenly stop mid swing with the tip inches away from his face, the space created between them with their two weapons.*

"You created that forest fire, you got us separated, you didn't even bother looking for us **Did you**?"*The Elf would snap at him. What should he care anymore of what this Macen did? He was a paid mercenary and all that Lucrum failed to do was seal his end of the deal upon forcing the Elf to risk his life for whatever it was the Macen had wanted to do.*"I. Want. My. Pay."*He'd say through his teeth.*"And if I have to cut it out of you, I'll do so and make sure those ducks learn why you shouldn't follow someone giving false promises."
Pauline
*Lucrum's voice seemed to cracked at his accusations. The squire was trying to tell the truth— that or trying to get him to lower his guard. . . —This, was one of the many cons of being raise by Dark Elves. There was no such thing as sincerity... But Lucrum was trying to falsify this stereotype. He spoke as he would any other day, however he hissed with raw guilt.*



*Lucrum didn't react to the blade that stopped by his face; Either out of shock, stupidity, or willpower. He had nothing to fear but Terrel's complacency to understand. He remained calm, he has him talking for now...*

"I looked— For days. . .
I asked— many people. . .
I searched— Kadho, Upper, Middle— and even returned to the forest by myself. Fearful not of my own life, __but yours.__"

*There was a pause and a moment of eerie silence.
The frigid wind stopped, the ducks grew quiet and the Mare stared. Everything in the forest stood still even Lucrum.*

||"—**I know. I have it. Take it... **
I don't want to hold onto it anymore—! It always kept me hoping that we'd cross paths again. So I could right my wrongs. Shaor—"||





*He kept talking.
Spitting the truth. 
His voice fell deeper, and more distraught.*
Katherine
*Terrel didn't shift from his stance, keeping the sword held out in front of him while the Macen rambled on about trying to search of them. His expression remained neutral, part of him not wanting to buy Lucrum's sob story. However, in being an Elf, Terrel had the knack for being able to read a person based on look alone. It wasn't a skill he cared much for, though now he actually had reason for it.

He'd shift his sword ever so slowly as the pointed end of it would meet the face of the Macen, just at the tip of the nose. It would a rather light touch, soon moving on as the sword would trace its way up his face. It wasn't pressurized enough to leave a mark, but touching enough to know any sudden moves would warrant a bigger cut than wanted. Eventually the tip would reach bridge of his glasses before he'd use his sword to move them up over Lucrum's eyes.

The Elf's eyes would narrow at the sight of him crying, whether because of suppressed frustration or disapproval of it, it was left uncertain. The moment seemed to last for ages with Terrel watching Lucrum in dead silence. After a while of studying him, he'd move his sword away from the Macen, lowering it back down to his side in waiting for Lucrum to hand over the money he promised. With what the Macen said, it seemed that he was unsuccessful in finding Shaori and, unfair as it might be, Terrel would take her pay nonetheless. He didn't know her enough to determine her whereabouts nor care of what happened to her after the events.*

*He would move one hand to his head, coursing his fingers through his long pink hair before he'd grab at something and remove it from its original resting place within his locks. A small crown, one he had chosen months ago between the choice of it, a pair of glasses, and a compass. It was a stupid question then and even stupider one now for why he still had it. Perhaps it was left forgotten all the time leading up to seeing the squire again.*

"Here. You can have this back."*He'd say, carelessly tossing the small thing to Lucrum's feet.*"Not my style. Way too small."
Pauline
*Lucrum would lower his Estoc, the two handed blade slouching in his single dominant hand by his side. He was relieved that neither of them were hurt. The weight of the world releasing from his chest as Terrel seemed to listen to his pleas, he would've held a look of disappointment. As he gestured to the horses, he'd sheath his blade and would stare at the small crown. Wondering why it looked so familiar— Until realizing It was his, he could've swore he still had it. Lucrum would reach to his empty head and only to feel blonde hair and realize he never received his crown back. 

Lucrum would catch it crown and read the engravings. He'd give a sad smirk, as his voice genuinely depressed as he recites his infamous line. When he was much more adamant.*

"__Neither choice is Wrong... You've found it...__"

*Lucrum's head hung low, obviously upset at this misunderstanding of a reunion. 
Another thought emerged, Maybe that's why that canifor looked at him crazy? He had forgotten he had give his crown to Terrel so long ago. The squire, would sheath his Estoc into its scabbard. Reaching into his jacket. 

He'd pull out a leather pouch, with dark reddish-Brown color. It had a letter 'T' embroidered into it. The pouch was practically full in size comparison to his hand...*

"Here, Novelty pouch. Made it with my Elven guardian... She does tailoring and leather— Yada, Yada. .. After the fiasco. I saw this as a homage. So I wouldn't forget. Has one too."

*Lucrum would begrudgingly, drag himself to the Horses. . . Rummaging through the mare's saddle bags, till he found out a leather pouch similar to Terrel's, before handing it off to him. Though this one seem more feminine. Lucrum didn't wanna say her name; he gave Terrel a nod. The squire would make himself busy as he would try to accommodate his new children. He'd make light out of this misfortune.*

"Well— I did learn a lot in my absences, sadly timely payment wasn't one of them. . ."