Magnus got the carriage moving, keeping the group at a good pace as they left his hometown. Before it disappeared over the hilly horizon, he turned to look back at it one last time. When he'd see it again, if he ever did, was unclear. A part of him was even worried that it might be gone by the time this was all over, considering the extent that the assassins had been willing to go to just to kill him and his parents. For three people, they'd broken all semblance of stealth and burned down a home in plain sight. He dreaded for any others who may be victimized that still lived in the city.<br/><br/>Taking notice of his son's worried expression, Sigurd reached forward and patted his shoulder. "It's gonna be alright. Might not be back here for a good run, but we'll make it." He sounded sure, but deep down, he was just as worried as Magnus was. This was the place where the family had made their livelihood, lived in for as long as they could remember, and made many friends in. To have it all taken away so forcefully was jarring.<br/><br/>Magnus, after the reassurance, nodded. "I hope so," He responded. Focus was returned to the road ahead, and he kept the carriage moving and turning until they finally reached a road that was very linear. Since steering would be less of an issue, he instead raised a leg and balanced it on the rail ahead of him, looping the reins over his knee. Unprofessional, maybe, but he and Agro had been on the road enough times together to be comfortable with the setup. With his now-freed hands, he sifted through a small carry bag on his belt. From it, he withdrew a wooden flute. It was as good a way as any to pass time, so he started to play it, occasionally shifting his leg to keep the cart moving straight ahead.<br/><br/>Hildegard, for the meantime, continued her conversation with Avis. "Well, I hope this little journey will be eventful enough to make up for the paycheck," She joked. "Once things have settled a bit, maybe we can figure out some proper payment. It might be a while, all things considered, but I'd hate to have you put yourself at risk for nothing, you know."<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Tarkus caught up again within moments. His neutral walking speed was rather fast, given his size, so he had to be sure to slow down for Vasma anyway. While he walked, he adjusted the various belts buckled across his waist and chest, making sure his gear was well-attached. When his companion spoke up, he gave a small nod of agreement. But, he did feel a need to clarify a bit.<br/><br/>"You can. Ardon wood is weak. The last cart I sat in broke." He was content to keep walking, especially since every wheeled vehicle he'd sat in so far collapsed under his weight. The landings never really hurt, but picking himself up through a pile of shattered wood and bent iron was always an annoyance. "Maybe we can put a saddle on Brom," He joked, nudging the cat-beast that strode alongside them with a finger behind the ear.<br/><br/>Giving a chuff in response, Brom rubbed his head against Tarkus' hand until he got a few pats. The animal's behavior might not have been quite the right temperament for a reliable mount, but it was a cheaper option than buying a carriage and horse. Besides, it could be a learning experience.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Kamon, walking alongside Jas as they traveled, had one of his smaller arms hefted across his torso in a sling made from the torn remnants of his shirt. The carapace of said limb was cracked fairly severely, and the internal skeleton had also taken some damage in the form of fractures. Bandages kept the shell from splitting apart further, and kept him from bleeding everywhere, but there was still a notably damp spot of blood leaking through.<br/><br/>"Are we nearly there?" The Korris asked, voice obviously trying to mask pain. He was no healer, and couldn't fix the wound on his own. Even the medicines he carried were only superficial treatments. Nothing that could mend a split shell easily. He was at least thankful that his legs weren't damaged at all, so he kept a good pace despite the searing discomfort in his arm.<br/><br/>He was less content with the group's dissolution, as he had been rather fond of Vasma, but he understood why they had left. And with the Teryn that had caused trouble out of the way, he did hope that they might meet again in the future. But as of now, he was more focused on his own well-being. He didn't want to lose his arm, and the pain that it was suffering from was acting as a constant urge and reminder to stay moving and find someone who could help.