"Luck is such the way of life for the one whose skill is with the knife." - The Prophecies of the Light

Morning broke bright and early, the wind already at it's work of whipping their cloaks around, and once again, Hyesung was ready and waiting, hardly holding in his impatience as he sat in his saddle, watching them break camp. Wonwoo caught a few grumbles from the blond guardsman about the lack of help from the Mage, but to his surprise, Mingyu kept quiet.

He was certainly unlike anything Wonwoo had expected, much more quiet and easy-going than he would have thought, given the taller man's comfort with his weapon. He saddled his own horse and the pack horse quickly and efficiently, finishing up as Wonwoo was barely even getting his own horse saddled. He had a moment of pride in a job well done, but then Mingyu laughed and stepped over to hand the reins of his own horse to Wonwoo.

"Like this," he corrected, hands deftly undoing the girth strap around the horse's center and scooting the saddle farther up toward the horse's shoulders. Wonwoo had to admit that he didn't see much difference to how he had done it and how Mingyu had, but he shrugged nonetheless and thanked the mercenary.

A muffled curse came from the side and both men turned to watch as Seungcheol yanked his hand away from his own sorrel. A nice big bite mark showed clearly on the skin there, along with a bit of blood, but it didn't deter the blond man as he wrestled with his horse, trying to jump into the saddle without getting bitten again. Wonwoo covered a laugh with his hand and caught Mingyu doing the same, but then the dark mercenary settled and motioned for Wonwoo's horse.

"I'll hold him still for you," he offered, cutting a sideways glance at the waiting Mage. "We need to get going," he added quietly.

Wonwoo agreed, and with the mercenary's help, he was up on his horse in moments. He held the pack horse's lead while Mingyu mounted his own horse, then handed it over before settling in for the ride. He was not comfortable on a horse even after the previous day of travel, and when his grey started into a walk, he felt his heart give a quick little jump into his throat. It wouldn't do to look so unsettled, though, so he tried to keep his face smooth and mimic Mingyu's movements with his own horse, watching closely from the corner of his eye.

Hyesung turned his horse and began to lead the way out of their camping spot as soon as Mingyu's foot touched his stirrup. The mercenary nudged his horse into line behind the High Mage, tugging the pack horse after him, and Wonwoo's grey followed automatically. He was quite grateful that he had a seemingly gentle horse, especially when he heard a few more curses from Seungcheol before the blond caught up with the rest of the party. His sorrel was prancing, wild-eyed and chewing down on the bit, as he pulled in next to Wonwoo.

"Good morning," the thief greeted, half sarcastically because he could tell that the blond man was having a rough morning. Seungcheol gave him a dark look that said he knew what Wonwoo was doing, to which only came a smile in return. "So," Wonwoo said, eyes on Hyesung's back up ahead of them, "What was that conversation you had with the Mage about last night?"

Seungcheol gave another glare at him, then turned the same baleful look at the High Mage's back. "Traveling smart," he replied, his tone clipped and obviously irritated.

"And?" Wonwoo pressed. He was genuinely interested in the answer, but not for the actual information that the guard would tell him. More importantly, the way that Seungcheol would answer should give him more clues about the blond man. He hadn't spoken to him much, preferring the company of the mercenary, but it seemed that they were stuck together for the time being. He may as well use the time to gain information.

It didn't seem that the blond picked up on any of that, though, because he answered with a mere shrug and a half smile. "We'll be stopping by nightfall and have time for a hot evening meal," he allowed. His smile told Wonwoo that the guardsman had gotten his way with the Mage, which led to the question, why had the Mage let him?

The slight accent tugged on his memory and he shook his head lightly. "Are you from Redien, guardsman?" he asked, and earned a wry look in return.

"No, I am from the Western Reaches," Seungcheol replied after a moment. "Though you can tell from my ac