The kobold's “route” was to simply cut through the dense wood that separated the North road from the East road they had been on previously. It was a route that Merdon would have preferred to avoid. Along with that, the further they got the more apparent it was they wouldn't reach the road by the end of the day. Merdon's armor slowed him significantly as he had to twist and turn this way and that to avoid tree trunks Quickclaw easily slinked between. It almost annoyed him to watch her move ahead before stopping and waiting on him to catch up. Quickclaw seemed mildly annoyed as well. Armor was what slowed them down, put them both at risk, but the hume continued to wear it. She didn't question him, not at first.
Worse and worse, however, the rains of the Sedran forest left the forest floor a thick muck. With such heavy rains, there was little chance for anything other than the unique trees that made up the forest, leaving the ground a perfect pit of mud and moss. Merdon frowned as he stopped for the third time in as many hours, possibly less, to yank his boots free from the swamp-like sludge they were walking through. He looked ahead to the kobold guiding him, her face featuring a look of abject annoyance at his slowness. Grumbling, he reached down and physically hauled his legs up, being forced to use his hands to free his legs despite how well the armor was attached to his body just to continue moving. The kobold sighed and kept going, her own feet barely making an impression on the ground that the knight was sinking into so easily. Not to mention the stumbling and gripping of trees he had to do to avoid unseen roots that the kobold never had to encounter due to her much lighter weight.
It was enough to make Merdon contemplate turning around. He would rather go back and fight a losing battle against the corrupt guards of Sedra that were no doubt looking for him than continue pulling his feet through the mud with a kobold in front of him. The way her feet moved across the ground, tail hovering just above the muck, it was like she taunted him just by moving. And before long, again, his foot sunk low, his body trying to find balance as one foot dropped lower than the other, and he had to reach down and yank himself out again while she stopped and watched like a mother hen making sure her chick didn't get lost in tall grass. He hated slowing them down, she hated having to check on him. It wasn't a situation that pleased either of them.
After another hour of trekking, Merdon's armor covered up to the knees in mud, he wanted to call the whole thing off and turn around. The problem with that now, he realized, was how far along they were. Turning around meant walking through just as much mud as continuing forward, and it wouldn't get him any safer. Of course, he didn't quite trust the kobold he was traveling with either. Removing his armor would leave him vulnerable and it wouldn't guarantee his passage through the mud. He was heavier by default and was carrying a much larger pack than she was. Yet, that wasn't what came to mind when she asked him about it.
“Can the hume not take his armor off?” Quickclaw called after what felt like the hundredth time Merdon got stuck. She was as sick of it as he was, and she didn't have any hood to shield her from the rain as he did. The kobold was drenched.
“And leave myself open to you?” he asked her skeptically. She was a thief by trade. He had no reason to trust her.
Quickclaw rolled her eyes at the accusation though. “This will become tiresome for both of us if you cannot let go of your preconceptions.”
That was far too complex a word, both in meaning and size, for a kobold to be using. “I'll stop when you drop the 'hume' stuff,” Merdon shot back.
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Quickclaw gave him a look and then sighed. “At this pace, we will take well into the night to reach the road.”
“Well, we're not camping in this ooze,” the knight told her flatly. There was no way they could even if they tried. Of course, maybe she could sleep in a tree.
Their banter ended after that, their fight through the woods continuing in silence. If the squishing of mud, squelching of boots pulling out of mud, clanging of armor, and hefty breathing from Merdon every step of the way counted as silence. At least there was no more talking between them for some time. The most was when they finally reached the part of the forest where the rains of the Sedra petered out and gave way to solid ground. Merdon had practically praised the goddess, an act he didn't do often, when the muck thinned and his feet steadily found more purchase as they walked. He no longer had to reach down and pull himself free, it only took a moment of lifting the leg that got stuck to free it, and before long he wasn't getting stuck at all. By nightfall, the human could find solid ground with every step instead of every third. Their speed picked up significantly, which improved his mood at last.
The moon was high in the sky when they reached the forest's edge. Safe from pursuit, but not from other threats, Merdon started camp a distance back into the dense trees. He didn't bother with a fire tonight. Light from the moon reached well enough for him to knock the mud off of his armor, and some dry rations in his pack would get him through the few hours of sleep he was likely to get before sunrise. It wasn't ideal as he clanged his steel against a tree to knock debris free from it, but it was the life of an adventurer.
Quickclaw, in the meantime, seemed to be eating something out of her pack, not that it was any of Merdon's business what she did. Her own stomach sated, she went looking for a good place to set herself up for the night. The trees were thick with foliage, good for hiding, but bad for seeing. With a sigh, she started up one of them at random. No matter which she chose her spot would have to be cleared out. Leaves fell from where she trimmed the branches to give herself a lookout. Merdon didn't know how fortunate he was that kobolds had good night vision.
On the ground, Merdon set up his bedroll and got as comfortable as he could. Clearing away rocks and branches, picking a spot that hid him from casual sight behind some bushes, and settling in on his back. Overall, he had to admit, things could have gone worse. At least the kobold hadn't stabbed him in the back, literally or metaphorically, just yet. It made him wonder.
“Are you really some honorable kobold?” he asked up to her, as best he could.
There was silence for a while before she replied. “Do you wish any enemies to know of Quickclaw's location?”
Merdon sighed. “You're hiding in a tree, in the dark. It's hard to see the tree let alone something in it.”
“Yes, Quickclaw pays her debts,” the kobold responded as the tree rustled. She was moving lookouts. Stupid humes.
It was no more than she'd given him yesterday, yet after their spatting and traveling, he felt it was more sincere. She could have left him lost and stuck in the mud, but she didn't. Not to mention when she could have taken him out the night before. As strange as it seemed to him, the kobold wasn't evil or looking to stab him in the back. He couldn't fathom why it was so hard for him to just accept that. Kobolds weren't exactly common to speak with unless they were slaves, so who knew what they were really like.
Kobolds were treated poorly almost globally, the orcs being the exception to that, but they treated everyone else like rubbish. Despite this, and the slavery that existed, Avant, the nation they were in, was more relaxed about kobolds than others were. It was uncommon, but not unheard of, to see kobolds roaming free in some towns. The capital was even known for its kobold slums, cheap houses where kobolds lived right under the king. It was far better than the elves, who often treated them as monsters on par with goblins, or the queendom of Rastar where a kobold without a chain was killed. Merdon hated slavers, but was he treating the kobold with any more respect than they would?
“Good night,” he said after his thoughts. It was almost apologetic in tone. Accepting of her at the very least. She was there, traveling with him, even if he preferred to work alone. There was no reason he couldn't extend basic courtesies to her. Maybe treat her like a rational being.