Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-9062114-20140927163426/@comment-5166523-20141001151344

Not wanting to intrude, Gwiriel sits at the front of the carriage, next to the driver.

He makes sure his bow and quiver are ready in case of an attack, but they're not travelling through bandit country so he's relaxed.

''Oddly generous, these Blades. Asking if I could travel with them was my last chance to get out of that frozen hellhole- I suppose I should be glad.''

He makes a mental note to keep an eye on Svana- she seems oddly hostile.

Gods, I hope she's not a vampire- they HATE werewolves.

He pulls his hood over his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep.

(Italics= his thoughts, BTW.)