He paused at the end of the hauling, his shoulders, biceps, and back hurting from the unaccustomed strain of moving furniture, even if most had been relatively light, and sat down for a moment, carefully stretching his sore, abused muscles. After a moment, he stood up, and headed back to the tents, and grabbed every blanket he could get his hands on, and started covering or wrapping the bottom layer of furniture, to prevent scratching during the move. Done with that, he left them to organizing, and went about ensuring he had snagged every valuable he could find, though he still missed a few, due to his different standard of 'value.'<br/><br/>He did, however, grab a couple of the better looking and maintained knives, and one of the short swords, figuring he should outfit himself with a few more blades to preserve his utility knife for as long as possible. He had a sharpening kit in his pack, but no sense using it when a lesser, local blade would do the job as well. That done, he resumed helping stack things, letting the women direct where to put things, though he was careful to keep a respectful distance, and refrain from sudden movements. They seemed to be coping fairly well, all things considered, but they had all grabbed at least a knife, and he had no intention of getting stabbed by jumpy victims this late in the game. Finally done, he hauled the other six packs from the tent he had been sorting in, and handed them out to the women, letting the mage do the talking for him. He simply leaned against the larger wagon, and would walk back to the village.