He braced himself in time to keep Dane Volen from pulling him off balance. Wyl held on to the man’s shoulder to make sure that he didn’t fall over. Vertigo was hardly ever fun, and especially not when one was already weak and emaciated.<br/><br/>“Yeah, east. Follow me.” He skipped easily over the crumbled wall and then waited until Volen joined him again before scampering off across the fields. It was slow going, the human was so very weak, but Wyl spent the time he had to wait for Volen by going back and forth and either laying fake trails or using powders or other means to conceal the way they actually went. For every ten steps that Volen made, Wyl practically danced through fifty more.<br/><br/>The creek passed through a copse of trees at the edge of a wood. It was far from the road and a small hill kept the creek even further hidden and provided some shelter from the wind. They wouldn’t be able to light up a fire, but it was a very good place for a longer break.<br/><br/>“Right, here we are. Pull up a seat and sit yourself down, my pious friend,” Wyl grinned and gestured at the hard ground. “Get some drink into you and perhaps some more food. In the meantime I’ll go get those chains of yours, so just you relax.”<br/><br/>Wyl waited until he was certain that Volen wouldn’t make himself sick by drinking too much – nor simply collapse face first into the water and drown himself – and then he disappeared into the darkness of the trees around them. Like a shadow he travelled unseen between the trees and then back out into the fields until he came back to the little shelter they had employed. There he picked up the pieces of metal – both the chest band and the hated muzzled collar – and with them he returned to the creek.<br/><br/>He dropped them on the ground as soon as he reached Volen again, brushing his hands on his clothes in an attempt to feel clean again. When that didn’t help he crouched down and pushed his hands carelessly into the cold water of the creek.<br/><br/>“Terrible things.” Wyl muttered, sending a glare at the pile of metal. “Fuckin’ terrible things. That’s some magic that should’ve been forgotten, make no mistake. Tch.” He spat to the side and cupped some water to drink. Such magics always left a very bad taste in his mouth and he hated it.<br/><br/>Turning to Volen while drying his mouth on his sleeve, Wyl adopted a more relaxed and cheerful attitude. “Now for you, my darlin’. You ought to take a full bath, but it’s a wee bit too cold for that now. Just pick one of the new shirts, wet it and sponge your lower half off before puttin’ on the new trousers and boots. Once that’s done I’ll get on workin’ on your upper half. Gods know that you need all the help you can get for that. What in the name of all that is rational made you think that etchin’ a prayer on your back was a good idea? Or even lettin’ someone else do it for you? Do you know just how much trouble that thing can create for you?”