He felt a change in the world. There was always a cadence to those in flight, but the body of people they were chasing seemed thinner now, but with more speed. It was superstition, of course, but he had always thought he could detect these things. Sometimes they wouldn't matter, since his role was usually the same, but on occasion it would cause him to change his plans. He had been sure Aryel would be trouble, more than good-hearted forces had been in the past, and he was happy to be right.<br/><br/>His men noticed the anticipation in his silence atop the powerful animal, and stayed quiet themselves. They trusted him, and trusted wrath in disobeying him. Their shoulder shifted and they looked ahead, further, to see if they could detect what would be coming their way now that their leader was more attentive. They didn't need to know anything until he spoke, but that didn't meant they weren't curious. This was a matter of their glory, when it wasn't a matter of their lives, after all.<br/><br/>Soon their thoughts were answer with a little star, right there in the pass, blazing with warning and invitation. It was alarming to see the body highlighted in flames. They couldn't imagine loosing to one, but the front of the party were worried they might still die, even if their group triumphed. It was also unthinkable that the demon wouldn't bring some of them along. Someone of little importance more than his sword looked up from his place, walking by the Frungling, and thought he saw a strange smile on their master.<br/><br/>A cluck of Rysalt's tongue to the side alerted the archers, and they strung their bows, stopping where they were while the rest of the hunters continued toward the challenge. Rysalt whistled, and the tune traveled well though the iron branches. Before the echo of that song had started, arrows peppered the sky. The greeting would find her position, but the impact would be rather spread. This was a taunt meant for armies, and he'd extended her the courtesy because she looked like she was about to offer him something interesting.<br/><br/>Rysalt slid down the side of his mount, and it seemed upset. Frunglings are typically fiercely affectionate with their family. He touched it's short snout, leaving. Some of the generals around him meant to ask him to stop, but they knew they wouldn't be extended the same understanding for opposing his march as the large animal. He wore silver earrings and they were ablaze, dangling by his jaw when he strode toward her. There was no place for her friends to go but forward, and he couldn't imagine another reason for her to be here than win time. Good leader. Good leaders have their subjects as weakness. And now she'd made that her strength. This wasn't the first time he'd seen bravery like this.<br/><br/>"Would you like to have a conversation?" he asked while all the gems in his arsenal of magic vibrated quietly in their settings. Some of the stones had been plucked right here from razor branches. Their resonance lived well among the trees. "Or are you about to entertain me?" His distance was still courteous. She could reach him beyond her own arm with that fire, and he liked to see if she thought she had such a silver tongue that she could talk her way out of this. Rysalt touched his brow first, then his temple, and at last his earring. It unclasped from his lobe to rest in his palm.<br/><br/>The blade that came out was simple, short, with a lengthy handle. Black leather straps for comfortable handling, and a close to white metal. With a playful swing he nicked the ground and picked up a pebble. The small rock was sent her way like a ball from a musket off the tip of his sword. It would either be a love-tap, right to her cheek, or she would be forced to choose between moving, deflecting, or avoiding the attack.