It was a great comfort to the Princess Helen, to have a loyal companion as Kall. The son of a Warchief, he'd no doubt prove to be capable and strong in a fight should it come to that, but as the two rode their horses along through the forests, another thought came to Helen's mind. Kall... could have turned her in. He could have pretended to help her. He could have subdued her and turned her right around to take her back to her father. Such a return would have earned him great wealth and influence from her father. Wealth and influence enough... to overthrow his brothers into exile or jail where they belonged and take his proper place upon his father's throne. No doubt her father had some reward out for her capture.<br/><br/>Yet... Kall not once even hinted at an interest in turning her in. He was loyal to the ways of an Orc. Freedom and self-preservation. Chains, no matter if they were physical or metaphorical, would not bind a true Orc. The sun was beginning to lower over their surroundings before Helen finally broke the silence. It felt... strange, to have a companion along who wasn't consistently ogling her or whom she had to body slam or stab to prove herself towards. It was welcomed, but... strange.<br/><br/>"I think we should camp for the night, Kall," she finally spoke, looking back towards him. They had been following the river some ways, keeping to the base of the mountains in case the horses needed to make a break for it. The warg riders and Prince Trevon had to still be following their trail... and she did fear for their Orc brother who might be tormented if they saw her bracelet. "I suggest we use the last of the light to ride up the mountain a ways, find shelter with higher ground. We'll have advantage over the hunters if they follow us, and we'll need to set traps."