Closed Misfits of the Eastern Road

[Marrick Corvis]

Misfits of the Eastern Road Summer 15th, 514av Syna was high in the sky as Ser Whitevine lead their small detachment of horsemen to the gates of Syliras. Marrick sat atop the back of his Warhorse, Kiter, with a mild level of curiosity marked upon his brow, and a gray pallor beneath his eyes. “I told you to get enough sleep last night little brother.” Ser Whitevine’s cheery voice sounded over his shoulder, as he drew the small column of Knights and squires to a halt. “Fergive me Brother, but yer too bloody cheery fer gettin up at the fifth choime.” Marrick said to his patron with a sly look to his eyes. The little grin that David gave him forced the Kelvic to chuckle darkly. “You were working on your little gift again weren’t you.” David Whitevine said as he imitated a plucking motion from his scalp. The man was almost giddy with his teasing, yet Marrick felt no shame in his actions. “Aye, what of it. Oi don’t want teh give Oriah a gift if it looks loike Oi dropped it outa moy arse.” The Kelvic chuckled a moment before he watched the gate. A short silence between the two lasted only a moment or two as a soothing breeze carried smells of someone cooking a meal near the main gate. “So Marrick, what do you suppose their cooking in there.” David said, the teasing grin returning playfully to his Patron Knights lips. He knew that good food from Syliras was a premium, and that his Squire had at times forsaken his human shape to steal away to the city for the occasional meal. Marrick knew that David enjoyed playing little games with him. The more of a tease, or prank the better as the Kelvic knew his Patron loved to wind him up. Of course, he also knew that this was the way his Patron ensured that the Raven Kelvic was familiarizing himself with everything that was Syliras. In a knowingly vain hope Marrick breathed deeply of the air. “It smells loike roasted food, from a spit at the Rearin Stallion. Loikly Kevith or his lovely woife is roastin a bit o’ beef fer tenoight.” The Kelvics nostrils twitched a moment before he slurped up a dangerous amount of drool before it dripped out of the corners of his mouth. “Tis an unkoindness makin me smell that.” “Why do you think its Kevith at the Stallion?” David said as he turned in his saddle to look at his squire. “Oi can smell the fat their bastin the bloody thing in. Oi can practically taste the savory tenderness o’-“ The Kelvic dropped off and shot his Patron an amused accusing glare. “Stop Please. Oi’ll bloody eat moy arm off in a desperate attempt at escaping this patrol.” David Whitevine crowed with throaty laughter as he gave his squire a reassuraing slug to the shoulder. “Alright Marrick. I’ll stop teasing you.” Ser Whitevine grinned at his squire and nodded before returning his attentions to the variable carts, and people coming and going from the gate. “So Why are we here today Ser?” Marrick said with a long sigh of relieved frustration. “We are here today to meet up with loose elements of the Order for a Patrol of the Eastern Road.” Ser Whitevine said casually as he nodded kindly to a family of pilgrims as they hurried past the armed men. “So’tis Patrol Duty to protect folk travellin from Zeltiva, with trainees from the Antonius then.” Marrick pursed his lips a moment in thought as he let the idea of their mission sink into his head. “Aye!” Ser Whitevine said, committing a fair imitation of the Raven Kelvics accent. Marrick shot his Patron a scathing glare mixed with a playful smirk. Ser Whitevine and he had, it seemed, at last found a happy medium. That or the Raven Kelvic had grown a thicker skin. Regardless, Marrick found himself straightening up as he saw the small column of Syliran Knights and their squires approaching through the gates at last. The Knight at their lead, seemed almost as if he had been burned by Syna. If that wasn’t enough to draw attention, the Kelvic noticed a Dog running at the Red man’s horses hooves. The Kelvic could not resist the habitual urge to cock his head to the side like a six month old puppy hearing a new noise for the first time as he watched the dog approach with what appeared to be a garden squirrel atop its back.

[/quote]

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

When Archailist first heard that he'd be going off on a patrol with his patron, he'd had to stop himself from jumping with joy. In truth, he'd soon come to enjoy patrols - they gave him a chance to do something, besides sitting in the Fighters Pits or the Training Grounds, whittling away his time jumping around the place and either humiliating the other knights and squires by refusing to be punched or kicked by them - or being humiliated by Fist when she beat him to a pulp and made him pay for it too. Of course he wanted to be a knight - but he wanted to help people too. That was the very reason that he was going to be a knight - why he wanted to be a knight in the first place! And it didn't even seem that he'd be doing that so often, between all of the training and work that he never seemed to be improving in. No matter. Now he could stop thinking about dogs and Py-Poles and settle down to a bit of friendly, relaxing patrol work.

His joy was significantly lessened when he discovered that he'd be doing his patrol on the back of a dog. "Damnit, why do I have to ride a dog anyway..." It was never that he didn't like Xarex, the faithful riding dog he'd bought in Nyka and rode down from the red-stone city of mysteries alongside a companion, Naia. He loved the Sykanis dog, because of his energy and adventuring attitude that made him so much like the squirrel in turn. However, riding a dog was degrading. People had a reason to ride horses - because they couldn't run very fast or for very long, and they couldn't climb buildings very well, and it made them look taller over the other people in the city. But Pycons had absolutely no need. They didn't look taller, because the horses and the people still towered over the diminutive dog and his rider. It made them big enough to be seen on occasion, but crowded streets gave little space for those that were small and therefore, in the minds of the plain stupid, did not need much space.

Even as they rode out, at the head of a long column to meet up with the few others that would be spreading out over the Eastern Road, the squirrel found himself struggling to stay close to the huge Akalak and his warhorse without being crushed under its massive hooves, because of the various people also wandering about the city and apparently paying little attention to where they stepped. "Because you need to learn how to ride a dog. So we shall do it at every available opportunity." The same line he'd heard more than a few times. For all the protests he made, he always got the same damn answers, and they weren't satisfactory. Never. It seemed like not even his patron could give an adequate answer to the questions that the squirrel gave, and there was nothing worse in his mind. Not that the red Akalak ever felt that the squirrel was adequate either.

"Yeah, but.. I don't need to ride a dog. It's stupid! I can run by myself if I need to catch someone, riding on the back of a dog won't make it any quicker." The dog might have been somewhat quicker but to the squirrels mind, that difference was negligible. And besides, riding on the back of a dog would never compare to the agility one got when they were on their own two feet.. or four paws. One couldn't climb a tree on the back of a dog and one couldn't perform complicated acrobatics on the back of a dog. Therefore the dog could only be used to provide a slim advantage on a long stretch of fields. And they were supposed to be patrolling the areas outside of Syliras. Which were covered in... woodland. Trees. Trees he couldn't climb because, yes, he was on the back of a dog! "I'm not any taller, I'm not any faster.. why can't I just run instead of ride?"

"You'll ride because the Order commands you to ride." There was a bit of terseness in Ser Iros' voice by now, although thankfully there was very little hostility in it. The squirrel knew that he could push the man over the edge quite quickly if he kept on bringing up the argument, since he'd done it more than once or twice already. "Now shape up and sit tall, damn it. We're not going to be the only patrons on this patrol." Now that really shook the diminutive squirrel. He was actually going to have to work with other squires, from the Order? Usually he just ended up fighting them, but working alongside them.. well, he knew that he would eventually have to, but he'd not done it once since he'd first set foot in the Order, and so he'd guessed it he never would. Now he would be proved wrong.

[Marrick Corvis]

“Marrick, stop staring.” David Whitevine’s voice rang in the Kelvic’s ears, causing the Squire to straighten in the saddle. The Raven Kelvic watched with attentive eyes as his Patron greeted their cohorts for the days adventure. “Well met Ser Iros, I am ser David Whitevine, Green Company, 4th Regiment, Gold Quadron.” Ser Whitevine said with a thump of his chest in salute. “This is my squire Marrick Corvis.” “Ser!” Marrick shouted and saluted Ser Iros vigorously in respect. Kiter, his mare, shifted her weight nervously beneath him until he gave her a gentle pat to her withers. Formalities concluded he turned his attention back to the strange looking clay squirrel ridding atop the dog. It was a new sight for him to take in. A war kitted dog carrying a squirrel made of clay. Eerily the little sculpture moved of its own volition and Marrick caught himself feeling the gaze of the little animation. Not sure what the little piece of mud was in the grand scheme of things, Marrick erred on caution, and gave the little animal a shallow nod. “Marrick!” Came Ser Whitevine’s unmistakable commanding voice as it cut through the Kelvic’s inquisitive focus. “Aye Ser!” Came Marricks quick response as he turned his attention to his Patron. “I need you to scout ahead. If Iros can spare his squire, take him with you.” Ser Whitevine nodded to Marrick. “Head back once you reach the fourth marker on the far side of the last arm of the Avitar.” “Aye Ser!” Marrick shouted in compliance before he turned Kiter south toward the eastern road. With a hushed command of “Let’s go Koiter.” he gave the gentle giant a nudge to her ribs to coax her into movement. The Great warhorse walked into the road ahead of the column, before Marrick turned and brought her to a halt. “Who roides with me on the dangerous road?” The Raven Kelvic shouted over his shoulder. Marrick wasn’t sure what to expect. He didn’t know who Ser Iros Squire was, but the massive man no doubt had an equally impressive squire. An image began to appear in his head, of a man as tall as a new growth tree, wielding a double headed axe. The bones of his enemies tied into his hair like beads. He would ride on the back of the most massive Tiaden ever bread in the Windmount. Nothing though, could conceal the Kelvics surprise at what happened next.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Ser Iros was, as always, proud and firm. "Well met, Ser Whitevine. Pleasure that you could find time to accompany me and my squire, Archailist, on our patrols." The man didn't bother to even gesture, really.. and even if he'd tried, it never would have made much of a connection. The squirrel barely came up to the destrier's ankles, when he was on the back of a horse. The mountain of an Akalak couldn't even often shake hands because he'd have to get down on his knees, and then crouch over further sill just to reach the diminutive squire. Arch didn't mind though - he was used to it. When one spent their entire lives being looked down upon in more than just the physical sense, they got used to such things - he was just glad that it was only the physical sense. Sometimes, it was a little more.. but the man pushed, that was it. He got frustrated, and the squirrel did too.

At least Ser Whitevine seemed friendly. Much more so than his squire, who just seemed to stare for a long few moments in a way that was inherently unsettling. But.. he nodded all the same, in return, before the man turned around and walked off. He almost thought he'd be out of the spotlight, finally.. but he was shortly mistaken. Barely a few paces walking along and he suddnly heard Ser Iros speak up again and glance over the side of his horse. "Well? Aren't you going to join him?" He knew that meant he'd be going for a ride.. so he mumbled under his breath but complied, lightly tugging on the reins and then giving a good jab to the dogs sides. Immediately, he lurched forwards into a quick trot.. and then a little faster as the squirrel tried to keep up and close some distance. He didn't want to go too fast that he couldn't slow down, but he still needed to keep up with a damn horse.

And keeping up with a horse, using a dog, was hard. Their legs were shorter, stubbier, and they certainly didn't have the same stamina. Possibly more energy but that was good for quick bursts.. not a prolonged run across large distances. He had to really begin to push the dog - and his own limits in maintaining control - in order to ride ahead in the column. But once he did, he nearly walked the dog straight into one of the legs of the squires horse. Why the petch did he think that stopping in that exact spot was a good idea? At least it meant that he got a good look over the man while he tried to imitate what the squire had done before - a strange salute that he probably made more of a mockery of than he even knew. "Archailist!"

Admittedly, he knew he must have looked pretty ridiculous. It was one of the reasons that he didn't like riding his dog, Xarex. A Sykanis with brown-and-white markings over his body, decked out in full riding gear suitable for a dog.. reins, halter, saddle with stirrups.. and a squirrel sat atop with all the markings of a regular squirrel jumbled together. Browns mixed with greys and blank, pupil-less eyes that stared up from that cheery little face. He didn't understand why everyone always thought they looked weird, but he'd often decided that it was just those humans and their weird faces. They didn't understand and all that. "You must be Squire Marrick, the one that was staring. Got a good look now?" His tone wavered between sincere and mocking - since he couldn't quite decide how he wanted to feel about this man with a strange accent. There were only two people in the world, after all - the nice people that respected the squirrel as more than a piece of pottery, and the ones that laughed, gawked and stared.

[Marrick Corvis]

With all the pride due any squire of the Order, the squirrel rode forth on its canine steed. It was truly an astonishing site. Though he knew he musn’t Marrick still found himself staring intensely with his pale blue eyes; a slight lilt to his head. It was an oddity the Kelvic felt he would never see again. When it lifted its little arm and saluted, the gesture coaxed a little smile to the Kelvic’s lips. However, as ‘he’ spoke the Raven Kelvic understood that this was not just some fancy automata. He was alive. The broad grin he gave his new companion was infectious. Archailist was so small, yet something within the little squirrel’s posture belied of a far larger personality contained within the lively bit of clay. Marrick thought well on his lessons in his past few months within the order. He had spent so much time wasted underestimating his peers. He swore to himself, he would not do this with Archailist. After all, the Raven Kelvic wasn’t much bigger than the squirrel when he was in Raven form. Archailist’s words held the slightest of scathing edges, though all the Raven Kelvic could do was recognize a fellow underestimated soul. His question in regards to the Kelvic’s habitual problem of staring at things he didn’t understand brought a little smirk and chuckle from the dark haired man’s lips. “Good day n’ well met little brother.” Marrick saluted back to his compatriot with as much fervor as he gave his fellow squires Patron. “Oi apologize if Oi offended yeh. As curious as Oi am about yeh, yeh deserve more respect than moy slackened jaw.” The Kelvic said, his smirk evolving into a genuine smile. “Oi’ve no doubt yeh are ready teh foight a legion o’ brigands n’ tieves.”Careful not to trample the little squirrel and his steed, the Raven Kelvic turned Kiter back south and coaxed her forward with a click of his tongue. “We canna keep Sylir’s enemies waitin.” Marrick quipped over his shoulder before he flashed the squirrel a mischievous smile. “Let’s roide!” The Kelvic couldn’t conceal the eagerness in his voice and the tap he gave Kiter’s heels sent the horse into a slow gallop. As the pair made their way east with all haste they could muster, Marrick would occasionally cast a glance about in search of his riding companion. He had his orders, though the playful and mischievous little raven inside him had a soft spot for the feisty little beast. Each time his searching eyes would find his companion Marrick caught himself wondering. What sort of trouble the pair of them would run into.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The smile was infectious; he felt himself warming up quite quickly to the larger man, regardless of their little hiccups. The man certainly had odd mannerisms about himself that the squirrel tried to shake.. but they kept popping up. Especially the accent.. but there were other things, like calling the squirrel 'brother'. He could only guess that it was meant as a sign of affection but for the squirrel, it felt very strange to be compared as a brother to one of the larger species. Of course, he'd always been friends with a large population of them.. but that was simple friendship. Something much less than what this human was talking about, and the squirrel could only nod in return. "Well met. And it's no worry; i happens a lot so I might get a little snappy." Some people had just never met a Pycon. Most guessed that he was just another little clay creature created by a budding alchemist or a novice animator, and therefore he was labeled a simple 'creation', when the humans never looked at themselves and asked if they were not creations too.

As the man kept going on, the squirrels smile only brightened in tandem with the other man. "Yep, you could say that I'm ready. Real question is if they are." As he spoke, he gave a gentle nudge to Xarex's sides with his knees and a little clip with his ankles pressed into the stirrups, to get the dog moving again. Because of the massive size differences between horse and dog, he had to push a little bit faster than the man.. and he didn't really have a fantastic grasp of riding dogs yet, so he was a little wobbly. Actually, he had to put quite a firm grasp on the dog to make sure that he didn't fall off, and that he could keep a secure level of control over the direction of the dog. He'd fallen all too often because of a sudden change that he could not control.. or simply because when push came to shove, he couldn't stop or redirect the dog fast enough. And trotting alongside such a large horse just added another layer of difficulty to the situation, although he tried not to let it show. He didn't want to look like a weakling, even if he could already guess he'd done otherwise.

Since he didn't know how long they might end up walking, the squirrel felt inclined to begin a conversation. "So... where were you born, exactly? I can't place your accent on.. anywhere in the Region."

[Marrick Corvis]

A lolling of the tongue or a stumble in its step betrayed a dogs struggle. When Marrick caught the signs of Archailist’s mount tiring, the Kelvic slowed Kiter with a gentle tug of her reins. Like the great lumbering monster of a horse that she was, her legs flexed like corded tree trunks as she drew to a walk. It was a beautiful summer day, and the Kelvic found himself drinking deep the wind with his nose. It was almost as if he could smell the sunlight on the air, but Marrick knew it was nothing more than summer wildflowers that lined the side of the road. It was a beautiful day to scout the eastern road to Zeltiva. The Raven haired squire could almost see the Avitar’s fingers as it flowed down out of the Cobalts and into the Suvan. It was a beautiful image. One that was quickly driven from the Raven Kelvic’s mind as he heard the growingly familiar sound of his companion’s voice. “Born?” Marrick said as he bobbed lightly in the saddle, an amused smile on his face. “Oi Don’t know. Oi was jest a wee one!” The Kelvic laughed heartily almost as if his joke were the best ever told. With a mischievous smile upon his lips and playful glint in his eye he cleared his throat. “Tis a common story, Oi’d think. Oi believe Oi was born in Ravok. Though tis a rarity fer a slave teh know the truth of their birth.” For a few ticks the Kelvic rode in silence, his smile enigmatic as he contemplated what explanation to give his comrade. “Moy accent was learned from moy foster mother, Gypsy. Though in truth, Oim not certain of her origins eoither.” Marrick’s lip pouted as his brow drew into concentration. “Oi’ve always loiked teh imagine she was a pirate once. Captured after her ship ran aground, n’ sold as a cook.” He nodded for emphasis, his eyes narrowed in thought. He cast a serious glance toward Archailist again, for just a tick before his smile broke anew. “She was a foine cook, but that’s about all Oi really know fer certain.” Marrick said as he turned his attentions back to the road. The pair crested a hill, revealing a view of the Bronzewood to the North. The Cobalts stretched out from the horizons end to end. Like the breeze carried the weight and worries from Marrick’s shoulders he exhaled loudly. “Tis a foine soight. Have yeh ever been out this far?” The Kelvic brought the flat of his hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the sun, as he looked down the road. Marrick loved the road. It was a path to new adventures.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He was indeed grateful for the little slow in their movement. The squirrel hadn't exactly wanted to push the dog too far when they'd just begun, although he had a feeling that the lolling tongue and panting was just a sign that Xarex was as excited for their patrolling adventures with a new companion as the squirrel was himself. It was amazing, how much control all of the other squires held over their horses. He really was beginning to believe that it was just Xarex that got a little over-eager with his riding and immediately decided to bolt off in one random direction, the moment he saw so much as a breeze waft through some patches of grass. The horses seemed so calm with their riders on their backs; he immediately understood why the Order wanted knights riding them. It certainly made the knights seem much more.. well, regal, when stationed on the back of a great horse kitted out in all the tack and bearings. Gave them a feel of authority beyond the simple plate-mail armour loaned to every squire and knight when they wished.

Not that Marrick was particularly regal. He could sense there was a joke in his words because the man started laughing at it, but the squirrel could only tilt his head in mild confusion. Perhaps it was something racial that brought about the humour - an inside joke. He soon knew otherwise; to be born in Ravok.. a slave.. and then to rise to become a knight. T'was quite a feat indeed, and the squirrel would know. "I've been to Ravok, in the past." He'd been to nearly every city in the region, but Ravok was by far the worst of them all through the squirrels eyes. The amount of slavers he constantly watched bringing up the lower and selling them off.. it wasn't like in Nyka, where there were slaves brought from other cities and sectioned into a small area. There were slaves everywhere, doing everything.. there were slavers walking the streets and looking out for a particular good catch that wasn't a civilian. Thankfully nobody gave much of a second glance to a Pycon or a squirrel, and if they did.. well, the squirrel was not slow. But it was still a horrendous place to live inside.

"I'm sorry." He knew, better than others most likely, the horror of Ravok. He wasn't a slave himself, thank goodness, else he simply wouldn't be standing there that very day. As if to validate his point, there was even a brief moment of silence before the man continued about his life and family.. or at least, what he'd had for a family. The squirrel stayed quiet for the most of it, staring up at the man and occasionally giving a good tug here or there to the reins to make sure that Xarex remained beside the man, and not underneath him. Eventually, it was his turn to talk again, though. "Much farther than this. Went all the way down to Zeltiva. Though it was by boat." His journey had started at Zeltiva, and gone up the road to Zeltyne, before he came back down again to catch his next boat to the next city. The journey had been rather roundabout but the squirrel had found it educational. "I went all the way down, from the bottom, and climbed up...." The squirrel had been pointing out his position with one finger, but he soon found that there were a few dots where the finger had landed. Black dots; people. Though they were clustered quite close together and as they went further down the path, he could hear voices.

Not friendly voices, either. Shouting. "Oh dear." Looked like they had a bit of trouble on their hands. Though it could just be thieves...

[Marrick Corvis]

Marrick was admiring the view as Kiter walked with her long loping gait, when he reflected on his little friend’s words of apologies. The Raven haired Squire let down his hand and straightened the reins through his fingers. For a moment the pain of his short short life washed over him contorting his face into a twisted knot of agony. He bowed his head and bit his lip to hide the emotion spilling out of him uncontested. With a long exhale he raised his gaze to the horizon of azure skies, and took comfort in the endless blue. When Archailist mentioned Zeltiva Marrick tried to imagine it. Anything to take his mind away from his dogged memory and the hate it filled him with. He focused his mind’s eye to a far off place. A boat, with its great white sails caught in the wind. He watched it in his imagination as it glided gracefully across crystalline waters. It’s bow cutting the choppy waves with ease. The image made his melancholy fade enough to bring the smile back to his lips, though just. Marrick hadn’t thought about the past in a long while. Training made for a great distraction. Speaking of distractions. Marrick saw the dark shapes as they moved through the fields toward the road. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he leaned forward in the saddle. His warhorse nickered uncomfortably as the mare drank the wind through her nose. Without warning the mare suddenly halted and shifted her front hooves from side to side. The Raven haired squire held the mares reins firmly in his grasp in an effort to control her. For a brief moment Marrick was back in that cage, hanging from the slavers cart as it wobbled about out of his control. His psyche danced on a razors edge for a tick, before he grit his teeth and gave the Warhorse a low toned “Woah lass, easy!” Marrick fought the great beasts spirit for a moment before the horse realized that her rider was there, and was in charge. Of course she was not pleased, and made her opinion noted with several heavy stomps of her front hooves. “Easy lass.” Marrick spoke to Kiter with a low tone as he reassuringly stroked the Mares right shoulder. “What are they Archailist?” The Raven Kelvic watched the dark shapes as they moved. “Seems loike a fair number o’ folk.” One thing was for sure. They were not friendly, and they seemed to be headed for the road. “Yukemen?” Marrick looked about, as he searched for some cover to better watch their quarry from. The road here crossed a long swathe of land between the fields to the south, and the woodland to the north. A small irrigation ditch ran the southern length of the road, while a tall hill covered in new growth trees flanked to the north. “Do yeh think yeh’d be able to get a better look from the water way to the south, whoile Oi flank to the north?” It was a risky plan with their force being so small. Yet, the Kelvic knew that with just the pair of them surprise was a necessity. Then again, how surprised would the enemy be when assaulted by a squirrel made of clay riding a dog. The idea of a man with wide eyes just before Archailist struck him square in the face brought a mischievous smile to his lips.

[/quote]

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

If the squirrel had more concentration focused elsewhere than the small cluster of shadows, he might have made an effort to comfort his new compatriot, as much as he could given his lack of authority or anything of the sort. However, he barely noticed until the man ground to a halt and the squirrel was forced to tug lightly on the reins to bring his dog to a stop as well. Xarex wasn't the kind of mount that shied away from danger.. if anything, he was all too happy to run into the battle and nip at the ankles of a Journeyman. The only sign that the dog gave was a low growl through his bit, but the squirrel had at least enough control to make sure that he didn't bolt off at full speed for the group. Their halt allowed their two patrons to quickly catch up, although their plan was pretty much set already. One went from the North, one went from the South. He could hear Ser Iros mumbling lowly behind him, but he couldn't make out the words. There were two trained knights and two squires under training.. the squirrel felt pretty confident about himself. "I can't tell whether they're Yukmen or not. Only way to do that is by getting close."

Ser Iros, for all the strength he could voice at that moment with his spear hanging out by his side and the sheathed Lakan pressed against his thigh, spoke out shortly afterwards. "Don't scout out too far. You'll both be at risk to anything in the wild lands if you push too far. Not to mention, we don't know how many of them there could be in the group." True enough, the squirrel nodded, as he thought the plan over in his mind. He'd have an easy advantage.. because he was a squirrel, he could press right up to the fringes of the forest and never really be caught out, unless he delved too close and let them find out that he was a little less organic than a regular squirrel would be in the wild. Though to imitate a squirrel effectively, he definitely couldn't ride a dog. He'd have to leave the dog behind for the time being and hopefully, he'd be alright.

After a few moments of thought, the squirrel decided to stay on his mount for the time being. He'd dismount when he got close and leave Xarex at the edges of the forest, if need be. "I'll go this way, then." He pointed to where he thought the south would be, before prodding Xarex into a quick trot as he slipped through the lowest branches of the young trees and bushes. He'd have to try and orient himself to make sure that he pushed in where he wanted.. he didn't want to end up pushing right in front of their faces, or behind them. Well.. behind wouldn't be too bad, because Ser Iros would be staying behind and likely the other patron as well. He'd already forgotten the other ones name but he was sure they'd be fine.