Myrist watched Ronin gather supplies and ready the young elf for her trip. She looked no better off now than when she first appeared before him. Maybe worse. She was clean and fed, but couldnâ€™t walk. Would she have been better off if he had just let her wander into town, easy pickings for whoever got to her first? Who knows. But Myrist certainly hadnâ€™t stood up to the responsibility he took up himself when he took her under his arm. He almost looked at the scenario like an adopted puppy. A puppy he had led straight to a pack of wolves.<br/><br/>Sigh.<br/><br/>At least he knew the road behind them was safe. It wouldnâ€™t take them long to reach roads frequented by soldiers. Nothing would harm her there so long as she stayed with Ronin. The man didnâ€™t seem nearly as helpless as the elf. Rather, he was a bit unnerving. The burns on his hands had confused Myrist until the guard had started magicing up all sorts of things in front of him. magic wasnâ€™t something to be trusted and magic users all the less. That included the small illusion spells Myrist used himself. It gave him an extra edge, but he would never trust it. Out of respect, the caravan leader took his hat off to bid the other man farewell and express his goodwill--they had fought a battle on the same side, after all--but he was not sad to see the couple go.<br/><br/>â€œNot sad in the least to finally be traveling free of elves, again, at least.â€ He said aloud, half to himself, half to the driver he was finishing up the wagon repairs with.â€<br/><br/>â€œSo long as we bleeding keep it that way.â€ the driver replied. Myrist started to laugh before he caught the look on the other manâ€™s face and turned around. Another elf girl was approaching; at least she was only half as ragged as the last. It was the girl they had come to save. The one that had been singing. Myrist had really hoped she wouldnâ€™t be the only one, but no others wre showning themselves.<span style="font-style: italic">All that for one bloody elf!? REALLY!?</span>That was just grand.<span style="font-style: italic">I almost died for this!</span>he fumed, turning back to the wagon and hammering in nails a little harder than before, refusing to deal with it for another couple seconds at least. The driver gave him a look, but only got a growled â€œOne<span style="font-style: italic">bloody</span>elf in.â€ in return.<br/><br/>Still, his hammer slipped when she said, â€œother forms of entertainmentâ€ the way she did. He turned around to look at her in surprise, uncertain he heard that right. The way she phrased her next sentence in elvish killed that uncertainty as sure as and elephantâ€™s foot kills an ant.<br/><br/>â€œAnd elven whore? Really?â€ he muttered to himself, completely dumbstruck. Obviously the driver heard the involuntarily utterance; he replied with a sleazy grin Myrist could hear in his voice. â€œWell, maybe we could bring this one alone, boss. Do a nice little good deed, ya know?â€<br/><br/>â€œOh, shut up.â€ Myrist spoke sharply enough to cut the manâ€™s throat. God knows what the bastard was thinking. That he chose this moment to finally decide Myrist was the boss made it feel all the sleazier. All of the sudden, Myrist no more felt a desire to work so close to the other man. He dropped the hammer and walked off toward the elf without another word. And of course, one more time, the bull headed Taliha was beating him to the punch. He cringed as she spoke with as much mirth as the driver had, if with massively different undertones. Quickening his pace almost to a jog, the lanky man caught her by the shoulder before the elf could respond. It was a little weird turning someone her size to look into a womanâ€™s face. A bit off-putting, but Myrist spoke in a much nicer voice than he last used with her; almost a whisper, as he was more worried about the decision than upset. â€œAre you sure, Taliha? Really sure? I canâ€™t stop you on this matter, but you saw what happened with the elf<span style="font-style: italic">I</span>took in...â€<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">Taliha grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she lowered her voice to respond back, "Don't worry. If this one turns out to be trouble or worthless I shall give her a swift boot and send her packing. At least this one can sing and offering to be of help. Unlike the other one who was lost and pathetic from the beginning..." looking over her shoulder at the waiting elf then back to Myrist, "Sides, this one looks better too. Could possibly get a pretty penny for her if we really needed to" her tone teasing as she winked at him. </span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Offered to be helpful...</span>Myrist almost laughed. But, come to think of it, he was probably the only one left that knew enough elven to pick up on what the elf implied. Not necessarily a bad thing, that. He decided to keep his mouth shut on the matter, and the driverâ€™s, once he got a chance. â€œWe didnâ€™t really get a chance with the last one. Worse could be ahead...â€ What else could he say? That was all the argument he had; the elf had plainly offered herself up as a servant and could be bought or sold as freely as a horse in this realm.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"Well if this one runs in the middle of combat she can expect an arrow in the back" this she said loud enough for the elf to hear. "Besides BC needs someone to tend to his grooming and needs" she joked.</span><br/><br/>With a heavy sigh of resignation, Myrist turned to finally look the elf up and down, not quite keeping all the frustration and concern off of his face. He felt like he was trying to lead a circus act to war. It was absurd, truly. â€œSheâ€™ll care for the horses, too.â€ the leader finally grunted, as a last act of stubbornness. â€œBut not the people. I donâ€™t want to wake up dead after supper tonight.â€ Then he turned and stormed off to see what kind of loot had been gathered.