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</div><br/><br/>The party grew less chatty as their first leg of the journey from New Haven to the Outpost continued. At the first break point it seemed that most were content to mill about, take care of their personal needs, and simply be out of the saddle for the brief reprieve they were given. The Captain kept their break short, as if he knew the distance they had yet to travel would be great, and he was right. They reached the first campsite much later than profitable, sparing little time to rush to put their tents together and set up camp before darkness fell. From the looks of the campsite, a veritable fortress in itself, they might have something to fear from the Grasslands.<br/><br/>Will was glad for the presence of the many soldiers. For tonight and the next two nights, their tiny party had the benefit of many men to ward off the dangers of the wilds. Once the expedition set off on their own it would leave just three men and three women. Four men, if you counted Red twice. From what the scout could tell, the Huge One would be a great ally to have in a fight. He should be counted twice.<br/><br/>The scout walked his horse to the line and tethered her lead, tying it in a slipknot lest she need to flee. Then he removed the bridle from her head, leaving her in halter alone. The bit, in his opinion, was overkill. If they needed to bolt a halter would be enough. He hung the headstall over the saddle horn, then loosened the girth two holes. Enough to let her rest; not enough to make it fall. There was no need in his mind to brush the lady out; in two days’ time she’d be put to work for the Outpost. He only needed her until then. Once she was handed off, she would be another man’s concern.<br/><br/>He filled his empty water flasks and left all but one in the saddle bags. If he had to worry about theft in camp like this, he would be surprised. Everyone here worked for the same employer, the Guild. Everyone here was accountable to Grimsson, and Will doubted he tolerated crime of any kind.<br/><br/>Their leader ate alone. Will noticed that their linguist did as well. It seemed strange; she specialized in languages, but it seemed she was not curious of what was said, as much as<i>how </i>it was said. He would have to ask her about that word later. Jinsia.<br/><br/>The scout accepted his share of food and sat nearer the soldiers, hoping to pick up information drifting on the air. He made it a point to appear to watch the women, examine his stew thoroughly, and ‘ignore’ their talk, though the wolf-whistles at Sabina did catch his attention. Even more interesting was her reaction to their calls. Thankfully it seemed that no one was going to force their invitation. With slavery a common thing, and the wilderness all around, a group like this could quickly deteriorate into a free-for-all, with women and pretty boys the victims to satiate their lust.<br/><br/>Against the darkened sky he saw the linguist move about the camp again, this time going to the giant and speaking with him before giving him the remainder of her food. Off near the tents he watched Lia move to the space near the Red Giant, setting up her bedding on the ground. He grimaced; the winds might pick up later and cause her difficulties, but she had the Huge Wind Block in Red, and would probably be okay.<br/><br/>Will returned to the tents to find Sabina sitting outside, reading from a manuscript. He had changed into clothing that was less gritty from their ride, reluctant to sleep in the grime of the road. He smiled back at the linguist and sat nearby, looking out at the camp. “Sabina, right?” he clarified as he extended a hand to her. “Hey, our cartographer,” he nodded towards the slim girl sleeping by the giant, “told me that I should learn a new word. Jinsia?” He frowned. “She said you could explain it to me.”