It was arguably a good thing that the most of the lagging group had moved forwards to harass the fawn in his wagon, as his 'master' wouldn't like to see him in idle chatter or such with his paying clients, though that did mean he was going to get intensely bored before long. "Lift your fucking feet, you hairy mules," he growled at the herd that plodded along. He didn't expect any reaction - and he didn't get one, but several whisks of tails and a toss of horned head. He twirled the staff on his hand, unable to keep himself from doing something. The staff was a longer, heavier weapon than he'd ever toyed with, but it was well balanced and his hands were deft. He could spin it before himself with a careful twist without dropping it, but the length of it and the added weight of the bells gave him something to think about.<br/><br/>His eyes flicked to the tall man who had drifted back along the caravan - Mayspeak himself wasn't tall, and couldn't see much beyond the first few carts and wagons, but the man's height caught his attention. He assumed 'man' because he didn't dream any woman could be so large. He glanced as well at the other odd man - perhaps, more accurately, the odd male. He wondered about them both in the same idle twist of thought that he toyed with his staff. Were he at home, in the city they were walking away from, he would not have bothered with either staff nor men, but here he had nothing more to do. It was wonder about them, nudge and poke at the puzzles they poised, or else let his mind turn to cheese.<br/><br/>The tall one might be an elf. The dark one, too. He'd heard of elves with skin black as midnight that sucked marrow from bones under the forest-thick hills, but they were turned to ashes in sunlight - or so the wild fireside stories told. He spoke oddly, smiled like a wild thing, so he might be... or so might be the tall, silent one, cloaked heavily so that nothing but his hands could be seen. His hands twisted the staff over and over, the bells mostly silent but for a softer sound, a slight whistling where the air caught at the small openings in their sides.