While Théadan agreed they should look for an inn, but be prepared to stay the night out in the wilds of Khlurios should they not find one, Navia was more concerned with his answers to her final questions. To her relief, he said she was not being selfish in leading them to Lamph instead of home to Mandira. She trusted his judgment and wisdom after all; if Théadan said she was not being selfish, she believed him. He was right that she wanted to share a part of her history with him, wanted him to see what was really the only special place to her solely due to her mother. She also knew how beautiful that place was and wanted him to see. With that decided, Navia nodded and began to fold the map back up. “Then we need to ride southwest,” she announced, careful not to rip the map while she spoke, “There’s no sense in going back the way we came, we won’t find anywhere to stop.” There had been a spot not long ago where the road had forked and gone south, so Navia figured that was the best way for them to go.<br/><br/>With Wyndagar still refusing Théadan as a rider, Navia had climbed up onto the large horse’s back once more. The height had given her a better view of the city’s carnage in the distance, causing her to have another eyeful of it before she sighed and guided Wyndagar into turning around. It was difficult to stomach, the imagery did not soon leave her mind, and much of the ride south was done in silence. The Khluri sun beat down on them cheerful as ever, birds flew overhead and clouds moved along lazily, but Navia could not shake the dismay she had for her country. She knew the signs of war would lessen as they moved further south, but they were not moving fast enough in her mind. As the hours passed, they would still pass areas that had burnt and destroyed. More ruined homes, more marked mounds depicting ruined lives.<br/><br/>When they were nearly halfway to Lamph, they had paused to check the map and Navia could see they were coming upon a small town named Khlorun. Where most of the fields surrounding the destroyed towns were burnt, this one had only portions charred. There were also clear signs of a battle. There were overturned carts in the fields, massive pits where debris had been burnt, and at one spot, hanging limply from a discarded pole beside an overturned wagon, Navia had caught a glimpse of colored fabric. Instead of passing by, she’d wordlessly guided Wyndagar off the dirt path they were following and out into the field so she could dismount beside the wagon. Its wheels had been broken, the canvas roof ripped away, but it had still briefly reminded her of traveling in one with Théadan before reaching Nygaard. After a little struggling and maneuvering of the pole caught in one of the broken wheels, Navia had gotten it loose enough to discover what she had suspected. A tattered Mes’Mo’Tanian flag, dirty and war torn.<br/><br/>She’d kept it. She’d shaken out as much dirt as possible and folded it up. The country had done so much to harm hers, but Théadan loved his homeland and it had spurred her into preserving something from it. Not wanting to comment on her actions, she had wordlessly added it to one of the bags on Wyndagar’s back and suggested they keep going. Not much further down the road, they had reached Khlorun to find it still in tact.  Once they reached the entrance to the small town where only a few large buildings lined the sides of the single road and several smallers ones radiated from them, Navia pulled Wyndagar to a stop and twisted in her seat to look back at the battlegrounds they had walked past. “They must have saved this town,” she pointed out quietly, a small smile pulling at her lips. The soldiers had won something, saved something. The buildings were only a couple stories tall, but distinctively Khluri with their intricate architecture and domed ceilings. The smaller ones further out were far simpler, with thatched roofs and few rudimentary windows. Despite the town still standing, it seemed oddly quiet, leaving Navia to wonder if people had moved south once the war was over. Into the small town they went, where it was not difficult for Navia to pick out the local tavern based on the signs outside the few larger buildings. She pointed it out to Théadan, then the stable attached, and they entered it to secure their horses.<br/><br/>“Hopefully they have rooms available,” Navia admitted while they removed the saddles from the two horses and collected their belongings. No one had come to assist them with the horses, so they’d taken the liberty of allowing Wyn and Vari to share one of the larger empty stalls. There were other horses present though, hinting at human occupation of the tavern. “Don’t be surprised it no one speaks the common tongue, all right?” Navia pointed out with a guilty frown, adjusting one of her bags to hold it better on her shoulder, “Most commoners don’t know it and this is a small town.” She also feared Théadan might not receive the warmest of welcomes considering the state of the surrounding towns, but said nothing in hopes she was only worrying.