"Marcus....Marcus!!" Gratus whispered as he slowed his progression from a run to a tiny creep as he moved deeper into the forest. He had no clue where the hell he was and unfortunately Marcus had escaped into the forest before Gratus had made a decision to follow. Alone, cold, and in shock, Gratus looked around for any form of life, friend or even foe. The former rather than the latter, of course. Anxious and scared to the bone, he nervously began to creep deeper and deeper into the wild forest. The random noises of the birds squawking in the trees startled him from time to time, causing Gratus to whip out his sword and hold it out with a shaky hand. He was not cut out for this and he prayed to the Gods every inch he stepped that if he got out here alive, he'd conform and become a priest.<br/><br/>"Marcus!" He hissed again, trying to keep his voice low should the barbarians be close but loud enough to call upon his comrade if he was even around. "Give me strength.." He muttered to himself as he began to push away the tall leaves and vines that tried to impeded his way. He slowly inched his way further into the forest, sweat dripping from under his helm and stinging his eyes. As he reached a hand up to wipe them his foot caught onto a tree-root which caused him to topple over into the wet ground. He froze where he laid, shutting his eyes and muttering a slew of curses under his breath as he listened for any foreign noises. His grip on the hilt of his sword was so tight his knuckles were white. Slowly, carefully, he lifted himself up onto his hands and knees. Then soon his knees then, with great caution, to a crouch before Gratus continued to scoot further into the unknown.