Feeling flustered and more than a bit frustrated, Nyara marched briskly down the road. It was never easy seeing her brothers and sisters enslaved, but she had to admit that taking that anger out on Riona wasn't fair to the human woman. Nyara sighed, her swift steps gradually slowing as her emotional turmoil slowly subsided, replaced by a bone deep weariness. She allowed Riona to catch back up with her, and the pair walked in silence for a long while.

Eventually, the sky began to darken and Nyara began searching for a place to spend the night. A small clearing just off the path caught her eye, it was sheltered by a cluster of tall pines, their branches rustling softly in the evening breeze. A small thud sounded as she summoned her small one person tent from her storage ring, the sound muted by the damp earth. Nyara quickly unfurled the sturdy canvas, laying it out flat on the ground. Her hands moved with practiced ease, threading the slim wooden poles into their slots. The occasional creak of tensioned fabric filled the air as the structure took shape. To finish the little shelter's construction, Nyara knelt and used the pommel of her sword to drive the stakes into the ground, each tap firm and precise. Once finished, she stood, brushing the dirt from her hands and knees. A small pang of guilt tugged at her as she turned to Riona and gestured toward the tent.

"I'll take first watch Riona, you can sleep in my tent." The elf paused, running a hand through hair, the dark locks, wavy after being confined in a braid for so long. "I......I know I have not exactly been pleasant to be around the past few hours. I'm not entirely sure myself why seeing that slave wagon this afternoon has affected me so much." Nyara admitted.

Riona met her gaze, the merc's blue eyes free of judgment.

"Don't sweat it elf, we all have our sore spots." Riona's playful expression then turned serious. "For real though, it's fine. Sometimes we all need some quiet time with our thoughts. I know we really don't know each other that well yet, but if you need to talk my ma always said- "

Riona cut herself off mid sentence with a chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well, she always told me I'd make a terrible diplomat. Something about my tendency to solve problems with sarcasm and sharp objects. So maybe take my advice with a grain of salt. Or you know, a whole sack."

Nyara blinked, then barked out a laugh. Riona grinned and spread her arms.

"There! If I can make you laugh after a day like today, I’ll call that a win."

Nyara shook her head, a hint of amusement still lingering at the corners of her lips.

"You'd better get some sleep. We'll want to be up early tomorrow."

As Riona nodded and made to duck into Nyara's tent for the first half of the night Nyara called out.

"Oh and thank you Riona, I really needed a laugh."

The brown haired merc popped her head out from the tent's flaps, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Any time elf." Riona winked at Nyara, her eyes sparkling before she vanished back into the tent.

Nyara rolled her eyes at the human woman's antics, her mouth twitching as she fought to suppress a smile. Walking a few laps around the little clearing, Nyara then settled herself on a fallen tree, her sword laying across her knees. She was alert, her elven ears picking up only the distant chirping of insects and the occasional hoot of an owl somewhere far in the distance. Every ten minutes or so, she would get up walk any number of laps between 1 and 7 then sit back down. About halfway through her watch, something snapped sharply to her left, and Nyara was on her feet in an instant, her sword held at the ready. The steel caught the faint moonlight filtering through the pines, gleaming cold and deadly. She advanced cautiously toward the sound, her muscles tense, ready to spring into action on a moments notice. Her sharp eyes scanned the shadows between the trees, searching for any hint of movement, anything to suggest the presence of another.

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"Show yourself." Nyara called out softly.

A quiet whimper sounded and Nyara's brows furrowed. She pushed aside a dense bush and found a young wolf, her paw oozing fresh blood from the sharp jawed steel trap that had closed around it. She crouched a safe distance away, the wolf letting out a short snarl and snapping its jaws weakly. Nyara's eyes narrowed in distaste as she noted the trap's cruel design—a heavy iron contraption with serrated edges biting deep into the wolf's flesh.

"Easy now girl, I'm not going to hurt you." Nyara murmured, edging closer to the unfortunate wolf.

The wolf growled, the sound low and weak as Nyara continued to inch forward. When she was close to the creature, Nyara allowed her purple mana to pool in her hand. The sight or maybe scent of her healing mana seemed to settle the wolf down and it allowed her to pry the trap off of it's leg. Holding it's injured paw the wolf hopped back a few steps then stopped, its golden eyes locked on her. Nyara remained kneeling and cooed softly.

"It's alright girl. Come here, I can heal that sore foot for you."

The wolf crept closer, her ears flattened to the back of her skull and tail tucked under her belly. Nyara continued to coax the wounded animal closer. When it was close enough, she gently reached out to the wolf's side and pushed her magic into the animal, directing it to focus on the injured paw. In just a few moments the wolf's paw was fully healed and Nyara smiled at the her.

"Go on now, you'd best get back to your pack."

The wolf huffed a small sigh through its nose, continuing to look at her. Nyara shrugged and walked back to the clearing. When she turned to sit down the wolf was a few paces behind her, its tail wagging tentatively. She sat, and the young wolf laid down, belly crawling up to her until it was just a foot away from her feet. Cautiously, Nyara reached down and scratched her ears. The wolf rubbed its head back against her hand, clearly enjoying the attention. Nyara laughed softly.

"You don't plan on leaving do you?"

Of course the wolf didn't reply, but Nyara sensed its intention to remain by her side all the same. Glancing at the hourglass she had set for her portion of the watch, Nyara realized that her time was just about up. She opened the tent flaps, the canvas rustling and called,

"Hey Riona, you're up for watch!"

The mercenary woke, tossing aside her blankets in a swift motion. Nyara's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of Riona's sleepwear—or lack thereof. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and Nyara quickly shut the tent's flaps.

Riona poked her head out moments later, amused. “Everything okay?” she asked, her grin utterly shameless.

“Fine,” Nyara mumbled, her face still flaming. “Just... put some clothes on before you come out.”

Riona laughed, vanishing back into the tent, and Nyara groaned quietly, burying her face in her hands. The wolf nudged her, its wet nose cold against her hands. When Riona emerged from the tent—clothed, much to Nyara's relief , she cocked a brow at the creature. Face still tinged red, Nyara answered the brazen merc's unspoken question.

"She was caught in a trap. I freed her and healed her paw. Looks like she's here to stay."

Riona grinned. "So I guess what they say about traveling with elves is true. Don't be surprised if they pick up a stray or two" the human chuckled.

Nyara just shook her head and entered the tent, laying her blankets out. The wolf whimpered pitifully, and Nyara gave a resigned sigh, pulling the flaps aside so that her "stray" could enter the tent. The elf stripped off her light leather armor and unwrapped her chest bindings, leaving her in a tightly fitted shirt and underwear. She pulled a pair of loose pants from her ring and put them on, then laid on her bedroll, pulling her blanket over her. The wolf chuffed in contentment and curled up at her feet. Within moments, Nyara drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep.