Siting there by the fire strumming lightly at her instrument Taliha watched as the caravan leader went about his duties of seeing to his team. Myrist, she thinks his name was, even went through the effort to leave out the feed for her to give to BC. When he came to join her by the fire she was a bit, unsure of what was going to happen. Thus far the caravan people had kept to themselves.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œI was surprised to see your bull keeping up. I almost made you leave it behind.â€<br/>Yeah, that was less awkward.Â Myrist mentaly punched himself for saying that outloud.Â Iâ€™m going to crush that weasel of a halfling when I get back to Aborline!</span><br/><br/>Her fingers stilled on the instrument as she smiles, â€œWell BC is not a normal bull. Raised him myself, plus he and I have been traveling the road a long time together, so he has learned how to hustleâ€<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œThe long road?â€ Myrist chuckled. The thought of a giant ukulele playing girl ridding a bull still amused him. And now he had a picture of her doing it all across the world. Different cultures flashed behind an image of her playing while she road around in Myristâ€™s head. â€œSo, how long a road <span style="font-style: italic">is</span> the long road, then?â€</span><br/><br/>Taliha looks down at the instrument in her hands, her fingers moving across the four strings a couple times though not a sound was made, seeming to be using the strings as a means of calculating her time on the road.  â€œHmm, about nine months. We started out at Tyrinia and have just been kind of letting the road take us where it may. Deciding which forks in the row to take via a flip of the coin or, where ever his bullheaded stuff wanted to goâ€ she chuckled at the fond memories of her and BC disagreeing on which road to take. In those situations the bull usually won out because he was carrying her. â€œWhat about you? I can tell that you have been on the road for sometime yourself. I would bet more then myselfâ€<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œMy whole life. I donâ€™t remember a day when I wasnâ€™t going to or coming from somewhere. Been from one side of this continent to the other, seen just about everything a man can see and expect to tell the tale.â€ Myrist replied. He was proud of the life heâ€™d lived. He stirred the pot that would be breakfast and felt comforted. These camps were the closest thing to a home heâ€™d ever known and he wouldnâ€™t have it any other way. How anyone could stand to stay in one place their whole life baffled him. Man just wasnâ€™t meant to do that; nor was woman, for that matter. â€œA person that never left home...they...â€ he thought aloud, half lost in memories now. â€œ...they have nothing to dream about. I mean, sure they can imagine, but they will never understand the shear size of a troll without looking at one, or the majesty of a forest cared for by elves, or the terror you feel when you realize that sound was the nearby roar of a very angry and very large dragon. All they can do is fantasize. A traveled person has memories. You know?â€ </span><br/><br/>Taliha looked upon him with complete understanding and felt a connection with him, â€œI know exactly. Its why I decided to leave home. There had to be more then just the mines. Day in and day out the same four walls surrounding me...â€ her voice trailing off as she looked into the fire, remembering the days when she would stare up at the ceiling in her room and just dream about the life beyond her home. â€œThere had to be more and I had to find it. I don't think I can ever go home again...â€ she smiles lightly then at the thought of her brothers and sisters, her parents. â€œWell that is not true. I could go home but I could not stay. The road and world would be calling to me and I just could not ignore that. Besides, I don't expect to see the whole world in my life time but I am sure as hell going to tryâ€<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Myrist put down the spoon and turned to get a better look at the woman he sat next to. There was a confident excitement to her voice as she spoke of travel. It made him smile. He knew that feeling. He got it every time he was heading towards a new place, and he envied this girl for all the places she had yet to see for the first time. An exciting road was ahead of her; that was for sure. â€œThatâ€™s the spirit,â€ Myrist said, patting her on the shoulder like a comrade in arms â€œand I had a feeling you were from the mines. Just have that look about you, I guess.â€ he added with a little twinkle in his eye. Hitting on logs and rocks as they were, he had to look up at her to say it.</span><br/><br/>Taliha laughed looking down at herself, â€œI am going to guess it was not my womanly charms?â€ she joked at her self before continuing on. â€œNo but I do know that the mines have given me a bit more strength than the average woman my ageâ€ she shrugs taking a kettle from the fire to letting pour into her cup for tea. â€œBut, when you are the eldest daughter of a mining and beast of burden family your life is not typical of a normal girl. I was shoving carts and wrestling stubborn bulls, when other girls were playing dress up with their dollsâ€ she shrugs again while setting the pouch of crushed leaves into her tea to steep. â€œI like to think that my life prepared me for my life of travel. I am tough, I know it and I am not ashamed of that fact. I don't need anyone to carry my gear or help me move an obstacle in my path. I just make BC do it because I like to bug himâ€ she joked again, relaxing into the company of this fellow traveler. â€œWhere are you going after this job?â€<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Myrist laughed along, thinking that maybe she wasnâ€™t so bad, even though she <span style="font-style: italic">still</span> wasnâ€™t the guard he was expecting for this trip. At least it looked like she could hold her own if she had too, and she was better company than many guards heâ€™d traveled with before. She wasnâ€™t slowing them down, either, and if one of his horses broke a leg, heâ€™d just borrow BC. He stirred the oatmeal again as he answered her question. â€œDonâ€™t rightly know. Wherever the next job takes me. First Iâ€™ll kill that little halfling, then wait for the next traveler that needs a guide or merchant that needs goods shipped. Itâ€™s as simple as that.â€<br/><br/>The others seemed to be rousing at the smell of food. They would gather around soon and he could talk to everyone about the next leg of the journey then. There was still relaxing time left, before he had to frighten everyone, though. So he chatted on. â€œWhat about you? Any ideas where BC might lead you next?â€ </span><br/><br/>Taliha chuckled at the comment of him killing their employer. Long as she got her gold she really did not care. Shrugging at his question while she blew on her cup of tea, â€œHonestly no clue. He could drag me across the land chasing a butterfly for all I knowâ€ she chuckles lightly. â€œThough really I do not know. If you kill the halfling I guess this would be the end of my time as a caravan guardâ€<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">â€œOh, there are plenty more halflings out there, my dear.â€ Myrist retorted ruefully, with an eyebrow raised look from under the brim of his hat. â€œAnd theyâ€™re all selling something. The caravan profession wonâ€™t take a hit from just one little guy disappearing; they get stepped on everyday and nobody seems to notice. Hah. Maybe youâ€™ll get lucky and get to guard the caravan for whatever other greedy little hobbit is selling his stuff.â€ he barked a laugh. â€œAnd anyways, you havenâ€™t proven what type of guard youâ€™ll be, yet.â€ The caravan leader paused for a moment there. He wasnâ€™t sure what tone of voice would be best for his next line, so he just looked into the fire and spoke a little quieter. â€œYou might get your chance here, real soon, though.â€ </span><br/><br/>Taliha quirked a brow at his words and tone while she sipped her tea, pausing a moment before continuing on, â€œWell I don't very much care for the little bastards, or anyone else who is not human. Though of course I know that not all humans can be trustedâ€ she rushed the last bit to make sure he did not her completely fresh from the farm. â€œWho knows though I may just stick around to bug you or drag you on an adventure with me. You have to be itching to do more then just lead caravans. Right?â€ it was a playful tease as she set up some to get her bowl and spoon for the oatmeal that looked about ready. â€œThough I suppose we can discuss that later as the others are waking. Or should I say I hope to have another chance to talk to you more about travelingâ€ giving him a smile.<br/><br/>There was little more time for the simple conversation they were having, as her eyes watched the other  human â€œguardâ€ practice with his sword. For the life of her she could not understand how people could be so dedicated to something like that. Sure she liked shooting with her bow and was what one would call decent but she did not make the bow her life. About the only thing  that she had dedicated her life to would be BC and animals in general really. Watching him practice with his blade, as she waited for her turn to get some oatmeal she still could not see the draw to that life. Just seemed to miss out on the beauty of the start of the day with that stuff.<br/><br/>Shrugging again to herself she spooned herself out some oatmeal, raising a spoonful to her lips and blowing on it gently she paused before taking that first bite, â€œThanks for leaving the feed outâ€ she says to Myrist. Then finally allowing the much awaited oatmeal to pass her lips and into her mouth, chewing on it slowly as she waited for the rest of the group to join them at the fire. As long as she was eating she was not going to feel obligated to speak to any of them. Especially not the midget or the knife ear bitches.