Lucien is preternaturally placid in the face of their exile.  He finds it relatively simple to forage for food, even for the lot of them if need be.  The absence of civilization out here troubles him not at all, and he seems to put the humiliation of his ejection from town behind him immediately.  "That looks like quite a storm up there.  I can put us in a rope trick if I need to, but it only lasts a few hours.  That could get us through the worst of the storm, if it's a normal storm.  Otherwise, we should find some more permanent shelter."<br/><br/>Over the time they've been on the road, he's proven generally resourceful and polite, but somewhat distant at times.  He and his wolf are clearly accustomed to having only each other for company, and although he casts the occasional appreciative eye over the forms of his female companions, he has yet done nothing more.<br/><br/>The storm presents an unpleasant prospect that cuts through his laconic demeanor, though, and he is now compelled to do more than follow the slow rhythm of the road.  He shrugs, and looks to his two companions for their opinions.