Omar's family reached Theiri kingdom on the fifth day. First they had to traverse through the village that skirted the outside walls of the Theiri castle itself. His eyes were very like a wolf's, as he looked over those who surveyed the Aserit royalty. His posture was maintained, head held high and proud just like a prince's ought to be. Even Eryo is a proud sight, now acting proper, knowing Omar needed to garnish the respect of these people, even if it was a respect birthed from fear. His broad shoulders were padded with light armour, across his back was slung a beautifully crafted bow and a quiver full of arrows and at his hip hung what Omar was most associated with- the notorious battle hammer that gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. No jewels studded this weapon, no decorative engravings cut through the metal, no- it was not an object of show, it was one of action. As his family neared the white walled castle, Omar kept calm, not letting the concerns bother him, but they<em>were</em>most vulnerable here.