Ashya was amazed to hear singing coming from the camp. Definitely not bandits, then, but it seemed like an unusual distraction just the same. She waited impatiently until the templars led the way forward, and studied Dee with interest, immediately liking the look of the other girl. Amaranthine – wasn’t that where they themselves were headed? Before she could remark on it however, Dee invited them to join her, and Ashya forgot everything else.
With a sigh of relief, the slight brunette darted past Ser Maddock, making the surly templar growl, but the girl stopped at the fire burning merrily in the small camp, holding out her hands, seeking the warmth eagerly. Maker, she hadn’t really realized how cold the damp clothes were.
“Thank you,” she told Dee gratefully, sighing happily as the heat of the fire started spreading through her, bringing a wave of weariness with it. The thought of food didn’t perk her up so much as the thought of resting, and as for bathing – it could wait. “It’s been a long day – and not all of us have horses.” The reproach in her voice was evident, punctuated by a glare at Ser Maddock which then swept all over the remaining templars.
It wasn’t so much that the mages were forced to walk that annoyed her so much, although that was certainly a factor. But surely the Circle could have spared a single mule to pull their cart? Constans might not have feelings but he still felt pain and weariness. If they were tired, what was he feeling?