Upon hearing such a racket, Noah inhaled deeply. His movements had become somewhat more adapted to the outdoors. Quicker glances around, forward and behind - he'd done what any sane mage would have - to ensure the safety of the crago being transported by the Tranquil. He stood near the front of the circle of magi, because it made him feel a little important. And when surrounded by Templars he liked to think he had the same power as other human beings.
He also had their energy. His eyes slid closed not only once, but at times he was concerned to check details of his journey - how many people, who they were, the infernal pain in his feet that made them too firm against the ground - stiff and tender. There were Templars with horses, which he knew they couldn't afford for everybody. It didn't mean he had to like it, though.
The sodden sleeve of his right arm cleaned his forehead once, and he moved his gaze to the part of the campsite he thought he'd heard singing coming from. If it had been alit, he could only have hoped the flame would provide him with some warmth.
"I thought the holy time is quiet as a sister," he said, looking at the latest unfortunate when they'd arrived.