Taliha grumbles as she sits up from where she was laying against BC, who was already awake but had been kind enough to not move being as he was Taliha's pillow. Once he felt her weight shift off his body though the large bull lurches to his feet before trotting off, one would assume to handle whatever morning business that a bull would have to attend to.<br/><br/>Yawning loudly, and perhaps somewhat obnoxiously, Taliha rubs the sleep from her eyes before her hands pat about her sleeping area for her pipe and weed. Not even bothering to open her eyes just yet to make the search easier, still having not decided that she really wanted to be awake at this time. Taliha was not so much a morning person as a person with drive and focus. If she had to get up because there was something to do then she would get up, pretty simple. On days when it was not necessary for her to be up at the crack of dawn then she was just as happy to sleep in. There were no morning rituals to attend to, there was no exercise for her to accomplish. Life was enough exercise as it was and so she did not see the point in doing more then was needed. Was this to mean she was lazy? Perhaps, to some people she was, but at the end of the day she was just a young woman. A young woman who loved her family, her bull, shooting things with her bow on occasion, smoking her pipe and sleeping in when the opportunity arose.<br/><br/>Piped tucked between her lips and pouch in hand she sets about hauling herself out of her bedroll. Stretching and yawning (as best she could without dropping her pipe) some more she gives her back a twist groaning when she feels and hears the tell tale sign of air before released from kinked and sore joints.<br/><br/>â€œUgh....I think I slept on a rockâ€ she says aloud mostly to herself, pipe now in her hand and being freshly packed so that she could have a fresh bit of weed to smoke on this morning journey. About the time she was squatting by the fire, working on getting it going again for some morning tea to go along with some oatmeal she was making, BC came cantering back into camp seeming rather smug with himself. If one could even call a bull or any animal carrying on in a very human manner.<br/><br/>â€œWhat have you been up to?â€ she asked him, a smile on her face as she eyed the bull.<br/><br/>Only answer she got was him tossing his head, pawing at the ground and his small tail flicking with excitement from side to side.<br/><br/>â€œWhy am I guessing that you were chasing some poor defenseless squirrel?â€ she teased the bull who seemed to become even more smug, if that was possible, as if to confirm her suspicions were correct. Shaking her head Taliha sits back, waiting for the water to boil and the food to be done, she lights her pipe with a smile before setting back to do something recent she had come to enjoy. Tuning and then playing her<a class="postlink" href="http://www.roadtoadmusic.com/files/018T_views110305.JPG">ukulele.</a><br/><br/>It is amazing what someone picks up in their travels, especially one who never really had a taste for any of the finer arts. Oh sure Taliha enjoyed music, she enjoyed the singing, dancing and general merriment of those around her when there was music playing. She just never saw herself as someone who would take the time to learn. Yet, that might have been due to the lack of instruments that really caught her attention until a chance meeting with a group of traveling performers.<br/><br/>While Taliha did not mind traveling alone it was nice to have the company, especially company of entertainers. The nights were filled with laughter, stories, performances and of course music. It was not until she stayed up late one night to listen to one of the young men play a small guitar that she knew she had to learn. Maybe it was the moon that night, as she watched his fingers dance with expert delicacy, the light smile that graced his lips as his eyes regarded her from the shadow of his hair. That night was...special. The morning they departed ways and as a token of friendship so that she might never forget her days of travel with the group, or that night under the moon, she was gifted her ukulele. Now whenever she took it out, there was a soft smile on her lips, just a small one as her fingers lightly caressed the strings while her minds eye remembered the deft fingers of that young man.<br/><br/>Sighing she shook her mind from past and focused on the present, regarding the past couple of days of travel. Winwe was an ok guy, he enjoyed the pipe like her and seemed to be decent, though secretive as he never could be found without his hood up. Even when sleeping he seemed to take care in covering his face. At this point Taliha figured that he had some kind of a hideous scar and was ashamed of showing it. Though of course, this just made her want to see his face more, even making her plot ways for it to â€œaccidentallyâ€ get knocked back. Smirking at those thoughts her fingers testing a string here and there, while the other hand tuned.<br/><br/>Now there was an a dirty, somewhat homely looking knife eared female, looking at bit like she had been on the road for a bit without any preparation at all. She almost felt sorry for her, almost. Mostly it was funny to see one of those uptight elf bastards looking like a gutter rat. As of yet their communication had been minimal, given that Taliha has not gone out of her way to talk to her; she likely never will.<br/><br/>There was a swordsman, or at least that is what she figured he was, given he carried a sword and practiced with it. The group seemed to be full of these practitioners of their craft, spending valuable lazing time practicing. He did have a rather odd looking sword, one that she had never seen before, then again she had not made it a point to look at and examine every sword that she ever came across. Still he was human, which was a plus, well human and she could see his face to be sure; unlike Winwe.<br/><br/>Then there was the dragon guy, whose appearance was exotic and exciting, while his command of the common tongue a tad bit frustrating. Conversation had been minimal with him as well, mostly so that there was no chance of an unintended offense due to a communication error on either part. Still there was a few days left in this trip so she was looking forward to attempting some more friendly exchanges with him.<br/><br/>Lastly, there was the midget.<br/><br/>Taliha had to stop herself from making snide comments while the little whelp performed her morning, â€œexercises.â€ Oh how she yearned to shout,<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">Stretch and stretch all you want but you still won't be good for anything but a foot stool</span></span>Currently she was making sport of ignoring the female whenever she spoke, acting as if the height of the female effected her overall importance in the world. Basically she was not tall enough to be worth acknowledging. Was it mean? Yes. Did she care? Not really. As far as she could tell the halfling was useless and was likely just a relation of their employer to watch them on this trip and make sure they did not try and steal anything from the caravan.<br/><br/>Just a few more days she would be done with this job, with a pocket full of gold and off on a new adventure with BC.<br/><br/>As she tuned her instrument she wondered, with an amused smirk, how the others planned on getting back to town? Save for the pointy eared bitch and herself no one else had a mount.....