Cut and run! [open!]

[Rhindeer]

Kid? Inwardly, Rook bristled. She was no kid, not with the shit she had dealt with. But she held her tongue and bit back the annoyance, because now was neither the time nor the place and...well, she supposed they weren't wrong. She was scrawny as hell from lack of food and too little sleep, and her voice was too high to be a man's voice, but passable as a younger boy who's voice hadn't cracked. Better a kid than a girl.

She couldn't refute that she looked a mess, though. She smelled it, too.

And she also smelled the food.

It was just bland-ass porridge, but she could see the steam rising off it and shivered. Fuck. Like a starving stray dog, she could totally be bribed with food despite her better judgment.

Slowly lowering her hands as their disinterest in her sank in, she rolled her shoulders back to ease the tension. Alright. Okay. These guys really didn't give a rat's ass about her. The rider was busy with his meal after that quick acknowledgment, and the cook seemed wholly apathetic after his quick assessment. Rather than be put off by that, Rook felt like she could finally breathe. She could deal with that. She preferred that, if anything. The less scrutiny, the less she had to talk, the better for her.

She folded her arms across her chest, fingers tucked in her armpits to keep them warm as she stood there awkwardly, not quite sure where to go from there. While she wanted to ask after that porridge, she also felt weird butting in. After all, these men seemed content to ignore her, and she didn't want to draw unnecessary attention. She could wait for Michael--and wow, how the tables had turned there. Just hours before, she had been terrified of the guy, and now she was anxious for him to show up. He was a familiar face, after all.

The cook's assistant jerked her from her thoughts, and she blinked in surprise as he held out his plate to her.

"Oh." Thank God! "Uh. Thanks?" Rook winced at her own words. Goddamn, she was acting like she'd never talked to another human being in her life. She accepted the platter, warmth seeping into her cold hands, and cleared her throat to try again. "I mean, uh, thank you. For the food."

She blew on the porridge to try to cool it, and gave the assistant a curious look. "Is the Colonel...Michael?"

Because she wasn't all educated on what ranks and shit meant, but that sounded...important. Official. Like he wasn't just a grunt here.

[Kingfisher]

The creaking cacophony of an approaching wagon signaled the arrival of another newcomer, though this time the familiar form of the tall swordsman - made to appear even taller by a trio of feathers pinned to his beret - was more apparent.  "That's Lieutenant Colonel to you dogs," the officer snapped as the vehicle rolled to a halt.  Whatever sat in the bed was hidden under a canvas tarp already, so it was impossible to tell what was there.

Wolfram quickly swung down from the bench as his drive set the break, the soldiers that had been waiting for his return clapped their shoulders in salute, to which the officer waited a moment to respond in kind, releasing them from their stance.

Professional obligations out of the way, Michael joined the famished waif by the fire, setting aside his ornate cap.  His men were already preparing for the journey south and besides, forcing them to skip breakfast would only hurt the party in the long run.  "Glad to see you made it," he admitted, taking a seat in the grass, making sure to adjust his scabbard so that it did not stab into the ground.  "Welcome to our camp.  Sorry I wasn't here to greet you; had some supplies to pick up before meeting with the main column."

The cook, having spooned out another plate of porridge, handed dish to the officer, which the man received with a nod before giving it a taste; it was less bland than someone might expect, sweetened with some wild herb...  Glancing toward his guest, he asked, "So, will you be accompanying us along the way?" 

[Rhindeer]

…Oh shit. Michael was really important.

That much was clear when the wagon rolled into view and everyone saluted a familiar man—none other than Michael, the guy at the tavern that she had tried stealing from. Getting caught stealing from a soldier had been bad enough, and though he had let it slide, her stomach knotted at the thought of just how badly that could have ended for her had he been a different kind of man. It was also a stark and abrupt reminder of just how crazy she was to go along with this. These were powerful men. She might not understand how powerful, or how they were powerful, or where they fit into the grand scheme of things—she had never paid any mind to nobility or military or any of that shit—but it was enough to be intimidating.

For a moment Rook froze, unsure if she should also salute. Damn, he wore a fancy hat and everything, and if there was one thing she knew, the fancier the hat, the more authority! Or something. Shit. Should she be saluting? Well, it was too late now. The moment passed while she still scrambled for an answer, so she shoved a bite of porridge in her mouth instead. Was that rude? Hopefully that wasn’t rude, but also…she was hungry as hell.

Just act normal. That’s all she had to do. She looked up from her plate as Michael approached and gave him a small nod of greeting, swallowing down a bite of porridge. “S’alright,” she said. “Weren’t waitin’ long.”

He sat, and Rook edged a little closer. She stayed standing, still filled with too much jittery energy to sit, but then thought it might be disrespectful or something to stand over him, so she crouched down on the balls of her feet instead. For all her nervous energy, for all that it was intimidating learning Michael was some important guy, she felt more at ease now that he was here, like a lost duckling reunited with its mother. He was a familiar face among all the new ones—and he’d been kind to her when he sure didn’t have any right to be.

At his question, she nodded. “If that’s still okay? It’s alright if it ain’t. You can change your mind.”

Some small part of her hoped he would. That he would give her an easy out. Traveling alone was dangerous and terrifying—but this was scary in a new way. Like, what the fuck was she doing? She was a woman among a bunch of soldiers. A witch, at that. They might not know all of that, but if they did, things could go badly and fast. But traveling on her own was even more suicidal, wasn’t it? This was her best bet, right?

But it was hard to trust others, and hard enough to trust herself half the time.

[Kingfisher]

"I've got no problem with it.  We just happen to be going the same way," Wolfram reminded.  None of the soldiers seemed to take issue with the suggestion, either.  He took another spoonful of porridge, tasting the nutty hint of almond milk.  He favored the guest with a brief glance, marking that she bore no luggage.  "Besides, you seem to be traveling light and we have plenty of food to spare on the way."

Truthfully, they didn't but most of their subsistence would come from foraging anyway so one extra mouth was not all that much extra demand.  Finishing his breakfast, the mercenary rose.  "Eat up," he advised his guest.  "We'll be ready to head out in 15 minutes."

He still had one more thing to get ready: grabbing a set of saddle bags, Michael pulled off a few cotton-wrapped bundles before tucking them into the wagon.  He would need his helm and breastplate - a light harness for traveling - in case of emergencies and one of the other men helped fit the in place.  The last wrapped package was long, slipped into the wagon over the seat, where it might be easily reached...

[Rhindeer]

Fifteen minutes was more than enough time for Rook to wolf her porridge down with all the gusto of someone who didn't know where their last meal would come from—or when it would be. She could have easily gone for seconds or thirds, but she knew better than to ask for more. Not just because she wanted to make a good impression, but because she knew her stomach couldn't actually hold as much as it wanted to hold. Especially not after days of lean pickings.

Inhaling a meal only to barf it up as waste would not a good first impression make.

When she had scraped her plate clean with her spoon and then her fingers, she rose from her crouch stiffly, stretched her legs, and then looked about for the cook. Michael was off doing important person things, she imagined, so she was left to figure things out on her own.

The food settled heavily in her belly, and actual nourishment settled some of the jitters that had been caused from hunger. All that was left was the usual anxiety, and she swallowed it down as much as she could as she shuffled toward the cook and attempted to human.

"Um, I'm not sure what I should...?" She held her plate out, head cocked.

[Kingfisher]

The assistant quickly intercepted the outsider, giving a light smile and a "thank you" before taking the used dish and setting to scouring it with a sandy rag.  The cooked did not seem a particularly personable sort, so the younger man took it upon himself to speak with their guest.  "I'm Tobi," he finally introduced himself.  "You got family in the south?" he asked, his youthful curiosity seeming genuine: he could not be much more than 22 years old.

Around this time, a lightly armored rider came into camp as a gallop.  Some of the other soldiers favored the man with a glance before recognizing him and returning to their tasks.  The horseman did not bother to dismount, simply mentioning that the roads to the south were clear.  One less problem for Michael to worry about.

As the scout again wheeled around and rode off, the commander passed a sideways glance toward the girl.  Matron's Hollow as comparatively stable and the mercenaries had strength in numbers.  Bandits and highwaymen were a rare issue.  More concerning is whether the girl he had picked up was an unmarked mage.  Alexis had done a good job of recruiting men who were not so loyal to the church and the Grand Duke.  But old habits die hard, and if they ran into mage hunters, his men's skill might quickly mean nothing...

[Rhindeer]

Errr. Come to think of it, Rook hadn't thought of a cover story as to why she wanted to go South. She hadn't exactly been planning on traveling with other people, so the need just hadn't come up. And she had been hoping to just keep a low profile in general and talk as little as possible, but...that probably wasn't going to be possible, traveling in a group like this.

Of course people might be curious about the random new person.

Luckily, it was easy enough to think one up on the fly. The war had produced a lot of suffering, after all, so she didn't have to hesitate long. She winced and rubbed at her scarred cheek, shuffling her feet. She would just have to keep it simple, and mix the lies with truth. But simplicity was the key to a good lie. Simple enough to keep it straight, remember what she had said, and not get caught in inconsistencies.

"Ah...yeah. An uncle. Parents are all gone 'cause, well...y'know...everything." She lifted her arms in an all-encompassing gesture, shoulders slouching as she let her arms drop.

"Anyway, I'm Rook. Ya ever been down South before?" And then, glancing over as the rider left, she added in a lower voice, "And what's all that about?"

[Kingfisher]

The war had many orphans, and it was no surprise this young boy would count among their number.  Still, Rook seemed to be coping rather well.  "Sorry to hear that," the young mercenary offered anyway.

"Anyway..."  Tobi piled the clean bowl into a hard leather case and made one last scan of the area.  "I've never been to Vythe, but most of the others have.  I only joined up a couple of weeks ago, so I still don't know all the ins and outs."

Before the youth could make a comment regarding the horseman, Wolfram came up.  "Gun powder," he said simply.  "Whole lotta people might be tempted to rob us if it seemed like an easy way to get their hands on it.  Scouts keep it hard."  One of the other men snorted at the lewd sounding statement; Michael could only roll his eyes at this.

Most of the men were foot soldiers, slinging their large satchels and grabbing their halberds and spears before taking up position around the wagons.  "Shall we?" he finally asked, directing Rook toward the wagon they would be riding.  It would be a long trip, and there was no use standing around if they did not need to.

[Rhindeer]

Gunpowder! So that's what they were transporting? Indeed, she could see how that would make them a tempting target. But more importantly...well...she didn't know much about the subject of firearms and all that, but she did know the stuff was explosive even outside of a gun...

Rook shot a wary look at the wagon that contained those mystery bundles, and swallowed.

Gunpowder.

Fire made gunpowder explode.

Of course it would be her bloody luck to travel around a bunch of fucking gunpowder.

Nope. No. Nooope. Don't think about it. Thinking about fire too much always made fire happen. She didn't fully understand it, didn't want to understand it, and especially not now. Or ever. She curled her hands into fists, thumbs rubbing over the tops of her fingers and the old burn scars there, outward reminders of the sin inside her.

"Oh...yeah. Makes sense. Heard that shit's explosi--er, expensive," she said with a wince. She waved goodbye to Tobi before she followed along with Michael, climbing aboard the wagon and quickly getting settled, doing her best to take up as little space as she could. She didn't know how many others would be riding inside, and she knew she was already one extra body they didn't plan on transporting, one extra mouth to feed.

Right now, she was basically cargo. Cargo that used resources.

Taking off her hat and settling it across her knees, she spoke without looking at him. "Hey, uh, Michael? Look, thanks for doin' this. Seriously. Ya didn't have to, I stole your stuff, you basically paid me, and now, uh, well..." She fidgeted with her hat. "If ya wanna put me to work, I can do things. Earn my stay, right?"

She was never good with idleness.

[Kingfisher]

( @Rhindeer )

There was not nearly enough room on the wagon for more than the two of them, the bed full up with barrels of black powder concealed beneath canvas.  The rest of the small band had swiftly piled the last of their bedding in alongside their cargo as they took up positions alongside, prepared to walk rather than sit upon the uncomfortable contraption.

There was not much more they needed help with, and Michael found himself scratching his chin at the waif's offer.  With a glance to his reins, he offered the leather straps to Rook.  "If you're up for driving, I'd take my chance to nap.  Didn't get nearly enough sleep in last night."  It was not a difficult job; just a matter of keeping the oxen from leaving the road, though Rook would likely be begging for a different job before long.

The warfighters made no apparent notice of the eyes that watched them slowly trundle away from the city...

[Rhindeer]

"What? Drive? Me?" Rook blurted, staring down at the reins like he was offering her a loaded rifle. She flicked her eyes from the reins to his face, trying to gauge if he was joking, but he looked pretty serious.

"Uh, really? Ya sure...?" But even as she said it, she took the reins, because she would feel kind of bad saying no after she'd offered in the first place. Especially after he said he was sleep-deprived! At this point, she felt fully obligated to be as helpful as she could, because if she was helpful and useful, it was less likely they'd get tired of her and drop her off on the side of the road somewhere. Taking over a task so someone could sleep was a Useful Job, right?

She stared out at the oxen ahead and tightened her grip on the reins. "Er, so...what do I do?" She flashed him a sheepish look. "Sorry. I ain't even rode a horse, much less drove big animals like those guys. I'm not gonna crash us, am I?"

[Kingfisher]

By now, Michael had pulled is flamboyant beret down over his eyes.  Luckily for Rook, the cook took position beside the wagon.  "He's just screwing with ya."  A few of the other men could not help but chuckle at Rook's apparent predicament.  "Beasts know where they're goin' as well as we do.  Just tug on a strap to turn them and shout 'whoa' to get 'em to stop.  And..."  The mercenary grabbed a stock-whip from a cup holster next to the seat.  "This will help get them moving."  He gave the device a sharp crack to spur the oxen forward, though they were in no hurry, giving the man ample time to return the whip to its holster.

The soldiers easily fell into step as the wagon began to trundle along; even Rook would likely be able to keep pace with large creatures.  "Boss'll be up by the time we need to make camp," Tobi said, having taken up a position opposite the former.

"That's Lieutenant Colonel," the officer drowsily corrected from beneath his feathered hat.

[Rhindeer]

Oh Ansgar, Michael was already settling down to sleep and didn't seem keen to answer. Surely he wouldn't leave her to the task if she could royally mess it up, right? Right?

The cook spoke up then, and confirmed as much. Ah. He was screwing with her. Really. She shot a brief, accusatory look at Michael, but she couldn't even be mad. Haze the newbie was a time honored tradition in most places, and she was just relieved that this was apparently a job she couldn't fumble--at least not without trying to do exactly that.

Rook forced herself to relax, feeling a little sheepish for thinking there was any way in hell she'd be given a job with any actual responsibility, and trusted the beasts and the other soldiers to lead the way since she had no idea where they were going. Staring ahead at the oxen, fighting back the rising heat in her cheeks, she said quietly for Michael's sake, "Speaking of camp and all that...how long does the journey usually take?" She cast a sidelong glance at Tobi. "Ain't never been too far from home, so...just curious."

[Kingfisher]

The young mercenary scratched his chin as did the math in his head.  "Shouldn't take too long," he suggested.  "Prob'ly couple of weeks, maybe three, maybe three if the weather sours."  Many of the other soldiers nodded or mumbled in agreement.

"Of course, we'll stop for supper before nightfall but if you get hungry, feel free to grab a snack."  To illustrate, reached behind Rook, pulling a handful of dried fruit chips from a container just behind her.

Had the young driver had a mind to, Rook might have noticed Tobi looking back along the trail at a subtle flash reflecting off of distant metal...

[Rhindeer]

Three weeks! And Tobi acted like that wasn't a long time! For Rook, it would be the longest journey she had ever taken and the furthest she had ever been from home.

If she could even still call it home.

Never one to say no to food, she was happy to take Tobi up on his offer and grab a handful of fruit chips, and she somehow managed to do it without taking her eyes off the road. The beasts may be doing most of the work, but she couldn't help but take her new job seriously. It would be her luck that the one time she looked away would be the time something bad happened!

It was perhaps because she was so focused on the road ahead that she didn't notice what Tobi was focusing on behind them. She popped a piece of dried apple into her mouth.

"Where do y'all sleep at night?" she asked as she chewed. "Like in the wagons or...?"

[Kingfisher]

@Rhindeer

"Huh?"  Tobi's attention returned to the young driver as he searched for an answer.  "Oh, no.  We just sleep on the ground...I guess you could borrow one of our bedrolls if you wanted when we aren't using it."
In time, the sun began to settle against the horizon and the soldier beside Rook stirred and swept his hat out of his eyes.  "That time already?" he muttered.  "Pull off to the right here," he instructed, gesturing to a clearing beside the road; the ideal place to set up camp.  By this time, there was already a small campfire set by the scout, who was brushing out his horse.

The man who had been tending to the pot earlier strode forward and the scout pulled up a bunch of rabbits and wild vegetables so that he could start on supper.  After all, the men were likely famished.

"Tobi, Hans, Jann; you're all on first watch."  Michael slung himself down from the seat of the wagon, preparing to unyoke the two beasts for the night.