Mesaraih turned around to give the elf a brief glimpse. He hated that he didn't know either of their names but he didn't feel like asking for them would lead anywhere productive. He had actually forgotten for a moment that the girl was handcuffed. Probably because she still killed so many darkspawn despite the fact.<br/><br/>"Fine then. Sit tight till we get to the campsite, then I'll get you out of those. Just don't stab me in the back. You two may not trust me, but I'm going to very unintelligently do the opposite," he said, turning away and spurning the horse to go faster.<br/><br/>After a brief and silent ride, they finally arrived at the campsite. Mesaraih eyes the vine lady, as he had chosen to call her in the absence of a name, as she climbed off the carriage and turned away from them both, apparently not in the mood to talk. Mesaraih let her be for the moment, remembering what she had said earlier about the things she'd gone through. He wasn't sure, but he sensed she had some inner turmoil going on inside her.<br/><br/>He largely ignored the handcuffed girl as well, as if he had forgotten that he was supposed to picklock her handcuffs. He went about gathering some small twigs and dried out plants and set them aside as he dug a small pit. He hummed to himself softly, an old lullaby that somehow reminded him of the mother he could never have known. He placed the tinder materials into the bottom of the pit, like a nest, then broke apart branches from a dead tree nearby. It seemed like a lot of the plant life was dead.<br/><br/>Soon enough he had a fire going, and he warmed himself by it for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth, before looking up at the girl again.<br/><br/>"Oh, right, your handcuffs. Almost forgot," he lied. "Dagger?" he asked, holding his hand out.