Fenris gave a nod and headed off towards the exist, his own pack light as always, enough to get by on. He walked in relative silence, only occasionally offering insight into anything Cyril might ask him- and the days went much that way- camping out, quiet conversation- occasionally stopping in a village for an inn, a proper bed- and a half decent meal.

It's at one of these that they've finally stopped. Fenris sitting by the fire, sipping some wine, waiting for Cyril to return from...whatever it was he was doing that brought them coin of an evening. He had a bad feeling what that might be, but he wasn't sure how wise it would be to voice it.