Now that things had settled, with Ashtons wounds being tended to, he had time to think for himself. He followed the majority at a distance, seeming a bit skittish and wary to approach. It was not fear, moreso a sense of wariness and he was aware that was foolish. They had accepted him now, to some extent. He was not quite part of this budding rebellion officially, but he had allied with them all the same. The mercenaries were stern, but they had better morals then the ones who broke off from them at the very least. Indeed, Ashton looked to be calm, walking on his feet while Amethyst ambled behind him. Wyverns were not majestic and beautiful, like Pegasi and horses. They were deadly, vicious looking drakes with wings, claws, and sharp teeth. They were predators, moreso designed to kill then just soar through the air.<br/><br/>And yet Amethyst was Ashtons closest ally. He had trained the wyvern, fed it, earned its trust over time, and he was able to ride the otherwise unruly beast. He took pride in that, and that pride was reflected as some of the villagers cursed the Galatian soldier. He was dressed at the enemy, and Ashton still saw himself as a soldier of the country. He took the insults or the odd thing tossed at him with calm strides, retaliation would get him nowhere. Eventually, he came across the swordswoman from before, the one who initially talked to him. “You... I am in your debt.” He gave a small bow of his head. “There is much to be done, but I still thank you. You are part of this rebellion? I am joining it, at least... If the leader lets me. Her heart is in the right place. And as a soldier, I must serve my country, not tear it apart.”