Timestamp: Sometime in the middle of Winter, 510 AV
Location: Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Eyktol
The cold night wind blew, biting and vicious in its chill, and it forced Siiri to hug her cloak a little tighter around herself, taking care not to unbalance the sleeping girl leaning on her back. The Myrian had tied the arms of her bondmate around her waist to prevent her from falling but the Kelvic was dead tired from the trials of the day and had dozed off almost immediately as soon as they had set off that evening. Siiri herself was fighting off the tempting pull of slumber, reminding herself that she had to keep a lookout for any approaching hostiles in the vast, featureless dunes of the endless desert. Their guide, some nomad whose name Siiri could not even pronounce, could not be depended on as he was completely incompetent when it came to defending himself and his family.
They were in no man's land, trodding through seldom traveled roads, and oftentimes forging paths of their own through the shifting sands. Avoiding the caravan trails, not that there were any anywhere near them, meant they avoided ambush spots frequented by marauders, but that also meant they were prone to getting lost. Or stumbling blindly into lairs of wild beasts. Or, yes, still getting beset by raiders who were lucky enough to run into them - those inconveniences they were trying to avoid by not taking the usual roads.
But the nomad had sworn that he knew his way around, even in the dark, and would get them to their destination, Yahebah, as soon as possible. Siiri did not believe him of course, but what choice did she have? She could not begin to tell where north and south was, nor east and west, in the middle of the desert. Leth's position in the sky did not appear to have shifted any from where He had been an hour ago and the formation of the stars seemed different here than in Falyndar. Not that anyone used those to tell directions in the jungle, not under that thick canopy anyway. But Siiri had heard bits from the sailors on the boat she had taken before that some peoples actually used those small twinkling dots in the sky to determine the different points of the compass. Of course, she didn't pay enough attention to glean any useful information then.
Just like she wasn't paying any attention to their guide as he chattered with his mate and child. The man never seemed to stop talking, yammering on and on and on the moment the Myrian met him. He alternated between conversing with his family in their native tongue and switching to Common to reassure Siiri that they would but their journey time in half by taking his 'shortcut'. Siiri was tempted to tell him to shut up else the attract unwanted attention, like she had told him half a dozen times before, but she knew he would only be silent for five minutes before his mouth started yapping again. Besides, she was too tired to make the effort. If he brought marauders into their path because of his big mouth, then so be it. At least they would shoot him first.
It won't be the first time he got into trouble because of his constant chatter, that's for sure, Siiri thought sleepily, recalling the instance of their meeting...