"No." He said, running his hand along the side of the wagon as he followed. Ansgar help him, his patience was waning as it was. The tempting fantasy of a night drinking amongst men who did not care he smelt of wet dog, for they clearly had experienced worse, did call to him. It was not the right time. He would get careless when the swill was draining down his throat. Lorant shook his head out of Quinlan's sight.
"My God will forgive me for brief lapses in judgement." Staring straight ahead, Lorant was keen on keeping his eyes steady on the soldier and the horse flicking her tail. While the mare was sated, he would have preferred if it was done quietly. "And sooner than He would forgive you, if you keep on trying to charm a marked mage."
His common smirk played on his face, not the smile the young man was looking for but a smile nonetheless. He could play the part of the righteous Brother, and maybe that's what it would take.
