Deryn’s news that Bran was possibly considering returning to Albion was not good. If there were more roving bands like what they had just encountered in these forests then travelling solo would pose a problem, the three days or so to the Starcraft camp would not have been an issue under normal circumstances, but even one night solo would be too risky. He would need to speak to the old man and see what he was planning, see if he could talk Bran round<br/><br/>Her responses to his praise was amusing, Deryn’s rather spikey retorts caused a smile to quirk across his lips, he was about to offer an apology for seemingly offending her capabilities when she decided to not hold back with her opinions of his own abilities, her attempt at a scathing remark had him breaking out in a bark of laughter, the sound echoing around the glade drew looks from the other member of Deryn’s party, laughter while they tended to their wounded and dead was likely considered out of place but he cared not, he was alive… well kind of, and that entitled him to enjoy that existence.<br/><br/><b>“Dainty would not be a description of you I would give, have no fear, young one”</b>he replied, still laughing softly but getting his reaction more under control from his earlier mirthful outburst.<b>“Now, I need to speak to the Old Man about travelling North.”</b>Turning from Deryn, Malkier strode through the now disarrayed encampment. Everyone was engaged in activities for breaking camp or dealing with the aftermath of the earlier skirmish, spying Bran securing bundles to one of the carts he called out to him as he approached<b>“Bran! Tell me you are not going back to Albion?”</b>indicating towards where the bodies of the beastkin still littered the ground<b>“This, needs to be reported to the members of the Viper nation, that there is some sickness spreading through the lands of Teutonia”</b><br/><br/>Finishing up fastening the baggage to the cart Bran turned to face the winged visitor, his voice stern and clear<b>“We are going home, that attack cost my party many lives. As for reporting the issue, we can do that once we are back, a transport party can do that far more safely than we can.” </b><br/><br/>The frustration from this exchange clear in Malkier’s voice<b>“But you have several days journey to the West, must cross the sea and then travel through Albion itself! That’s at least a week at best! This could have gotten elsewhere by then!”</b><br/><br/>Eyes from all around the camp were drawn to the exchange, Bran not being swayed by the stranger’s words held his ground<b>“Regardless of what you say Stranger that is my choice! I must look out for those under my command and am not willing to sacrifice more men to get a message to a foreign nation! They will have to deal with it themselves. When we are home we will send word of what we have seen.”</b><br/><br/>Anger finally erupting in full at Bran<b>“Fine! I shall deliver the message myself alone. Ironic how the one your nation would brand evil is doing the right thing!”</b>Striding away from the man, clearly bristling with frustration, the feathers of his wings like the hairs on an angry cat, disheveled and on edge. With a single backward glance and shaking of his head Malkier turned Northwards through the forest, intending to find the Starcraft with all haste.