The knight's eyes were never still. Though his face was calm, they were vigilant, roving over the gloom-swaddled hills, watching Cormac's hound Shartan for any signs of tension, glancing back at his companions. Night had fallen on the second day of their march. Most of those in the company were likely used to long marches and tiring days, but others he was less than certain about, and in concern he watched them for signs of flagging strength.
Falina, for one, had already made the staggeringly long march from Orzammar to Amaranthine. Still, this was another journey so close on the heels of the first; she had only a few days at Vigil's Keep before they were rushing towards yet another destination. For now, she was proving as tough and strong-willed as dwarvish reputation reckoned. The elves seemed to be no more weary than the lot of them, and the Qunari were as likely to tire as mountains themselves. He was certain of Cormac's resilience as well, and confident of Conlan's, though by now the lot of them (excluding the Qunari, perhaps) were walking with a more plodding step and a stoop in their shoulders than usual. Even Ordhan felt the weight of his armor hang upon him.
Traveling this long after sunset would allow them to make better time towards the shelter of Denerim, but it also put Ordhan on edge. He and his companions were well-armed and of decent number, but even that would not deter the more reckless or foolish bandits. The cover of night brought with it boldness for troublemakers. Darkspawn also roved beneath the lightless sky. They were likely far away, but one could never be certain.
At Cormac's quiet question to the hound at his side, Ordhan looked at him. If the mercenary sensed tension in the Mabari, there was something amiss. The creatures were clever enough not to overreact to a squirrel or windblown leaves. Even as he watched, Ordhan settled his shield on his arm and loosened his sword in its sheath. When Shartan trotted to Falina's side and Cormac began to make his way forward, Ordhan followed close behind. Cormac was the only of his companions he had fought alongside before; that battle had earned a trust forged in fire and blood that the years hadn't tarnished, and not a moment of hesitation passed before he was striding a few paces behind the other. A faint light was flickering up ahead as the foliage thinned. Cormac was at its edge, now, but only tarried a second before he had sprung ahead; Ordhan continued forward, turning his path to one side to leave the brush a short distance from the spot.