He was rather talkative for a kidnapper. She arched a brow at him, though he couldn't see it since she was in front of him. It wasn't as if she blamed him for what he was doing. After all, he wanted to keep his head. Who could blame him for wanting to live?<br/><br/>As they rode, he continued to speak of things Isa hadn't heard of before. A festival? Was that like the galas she had often went to with her parents? Even something as seemingly trivial as a marketplace sounded interesting in her eyes. Certainly, he was a good storyteller. Regardless of the deed he was being forced to do, there was a kind of nobleness to him. Rugged though it may be, it was still there. He was charming in his own way. It seemed to her that the peasant life may not be as rough and horrid as she had been lead to believe.<br/><br/>When night came, she seated herself on a fallen tree nearby, watching him work with curiosity like that of a child. Camping was considered a filthy trip. Not at all worth it when you could simply pay to get a proper room at an inn. As distressing a situation as it was, this wasn't half bad. She gave a half smile at his words about the stew. As bland as it was, it was better than nothing.<br/><br/>Back at the castle, however, things weren't going so well. Isa's horse had ran back without her, sparking a chain reaction among the guards. Nearly all went out to find her, but it would be nigh impossible to find her in the dark, so they were forced to wait until morning.