The line between waking and slumber didn't exist for the foreseeable future. He had stormed out of Ul'dah like a man possessed, grabbing only the barest essentials and stuffing them into a satchel for easier carrying. A change of clothes that had been left behind moons ago, as many blankets as he could tear from the beds downstairs, carefully packed rations. The last step before exiting was to tear the map from the wall and smash it out of the frame. Bits of glass crunched into the carpet beneath heavy boots but that didn't garner any attention. There wouldn't be anybody around to cut themselves. It could wait. Everything could wait.
Victory was one of the hardiest birds the stables in Ul'dah had ever produced but even he had his limits. The pair had stopped briefly in Bluefog, chiefly for the chocobo to rest. Warren wouldn't begrudge the animal a chance to recover after the hard run they'd already undertaken but he couldn't put the timetable out of his head.
Bells, at the most. They don't have warm clothes. They're not near camp. They're not going to be found.
The man paced, his tempo insuring that even the most curious Flames on guard wouldn't approach him. He wore a warm cloak on his shoulder, though it did nothing to conceal the bulky armor of a Free Paladin or perhaps more important the massive sword at his hip. Whatever they might have figured his business was, alone, clearly in a hurry, they knew better than to turn that attention on themselves.
He's fast. We're making better time than any other bird could. We'll make it.
Warren tried to ignore the ticking of the clock. He didn't know where he was looking, but he did know where he was NOT looking. Nowhere near camps. Nowhere near towers. Dragonhead and Whitebrim were ruled out by necessity; She was traveling alone and wouldn't want the attention. The Observatorium would be possible, but it was the opposite direction of open fields with running water. A quiet voice told him it wouldn't matter, which he summarily silenced with a growl.
Victory rose on his own accord. Warren rested a heavy hand on the bird's helm. Already the temperature was dipping as they made their way from Thanalan's hotter regions, and the air in the dead of night did little to hold onto what warmth the area did collect. He spared a brief moment of worry for his mount's welfare, but brushed it aside.
They didn't have a choice. Warren tried not to think of how much time had passed since the crunching of the linkpearl and their break. He brought forth the map in his head again, closing his eyes as Victory lumbered into a heavy, determined trot stretching further north past the battle site of Castrum Meridium. His eyes slipped shut as he focused, and he was still going over possible locations when sleep took him.
He dreamt of ice and blackness.
(Edit: Moved to thread http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread....&pid=90988 so I stop spamming the bulletin board all the time.)
Victory was one of the hardiest birds the stables in Ul'dah had ever produced but even he had his limits. The pair had stopped briefly in Bluefog, chiefly for the chocobo to rest. Warren wouldn't begrudge the animal a chance to recover after the hard run they'd already undertaken but he couldn't put the timetable out of his head.
Bells, at the most. They don't have warm clothes. They're not near camp. They're not going to be found.
The man paced, his tempo insuring that even the most curious Flames on guard wouldn't approach him. He wore a warm cloak on his shoulder, though it did nothing to conceal the bulky armor of a Free Paladin or perhaps more important the massive sword at his hip. Whatever they might have figured his business was, alone, clearly in a hurry, they knew better than to turn that attention on themselves.
He's fast. We're making better time than any other bird could. We'll make it.
Warren tried to ignore the ticking of the clock. He didn't know where he was looking, but he did know where he was NOT looking. Nowhere near camps. Nowhere near towers. Dragonhead and Whitebrim were ruled out by necessity; She was traveling alone and wouldn't want the attention. The Observatorium would be possible, but it was the opposite direction of open fields with running water. A quiet voice told him it wouldn't matter, which he summarily silenced with a growl.
Victory rose on his own accord. Warren rested a heavy hand on the bird's helm. Already the temperature was dipping as they made their way from Thanalan's hotter regions, and the air in the dead of night did little to hold onto what warmth the area did collect. He spared a brief moment of worry for his mount's welfare, but brushed it aside.
They didn't have a choice. Warren tried not to think of how much time had passed since the crunching of the linkpearl and their break. He brought forth the map in his head again, closing his eyes as Victory lumbered into a heavy, determined trot stretching further north past the battle site of Castrum Meridium. His eyes slipped shut as he focused, and he was still going over possible locations when sleep took him.
He dreamt of ice and blackness.
(Edit: Moved to thread http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread....&pid=90988 so I stop spamming the bulletin board all the time.)
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
