Régnwald walked to a high ground to better see the settled camp in the cave, looking toward the loose collection of tents until he spotted Cynebur. First he hesitated to approach, but then he broke that quiet ''You couldn't sleep just like me?'' his pale eyes brimmed with the air of an answer already known.
Cynebur was looking to the stars trough the caves opening on the top, she lowered look down at the sleeping people as Regnwald approached and spoke. Her voice was silent "I sleep lightly, or sleep none since i was forced to leave Stangard.'' She let the braid fall over her right shoulder as she turned her head to her left watching the long shadow of what Régnwald was. "Sleep is for innocent ones, or those without morale."
Régnwald heaved a brief sigh as he let his eyes wander around the cave, casting for something to say, albeit he spoke naught to her words, eyed her in thought, his features shadowed by the night. ''You must rest,'' he spoke up, ''No orc or easterling will come to break this quiet ...for now.''
Cynebur shook her head and looked away "Stole a nap after my bath, it was refreshing enough."
Torwiga strode into the cave as two men left with a sharpening stone and some oils. He threw the empty sacks into the corner where a few more were lying, before he walked in a bit more. A few Ceorlfolc looked up towards the Champion, smiling as they saw the huge man with arms that looked as if they could tear an orc in half as easy as ripping cloth.
Céolswith spoke with someone before looking up into the cave. She thanks the man before turning to head up, stopping to nod at the Cempa, "Done already?"
Torwiga said, 'Yea, sorted them into piles now two others are about to sharpen them.'
Céolswith nodded, "I uh... give me a moment..."
Son of Régn would not insist, head cocked to the side, eyes being narrowed, he sucked in a deep breath, once again the bearded chin jutted out, split by a faint, rueful smile. ''As you wish.''
Torwiga raised a brow slightly before he nodded stoutly and moved over towards where he had set up his own bedroll and lifted up a dented metal flask of sorts and took a large swig from the amount left in. He sloshed it around before he put it back.
Ceolswith waved, not bothering to hide her injured hand this time. It is unbandaged, "Æthelwigend... do we have plans on where we're going next?"
Régnwald eyed her a beat, answering with a solemn air about him ''T'was already discussed: High-knolls... We'll cross the mountains.'' a voice laced with the fatigue of recent days.
Torwiga moved towards a group of young folawigends and started to speak to them. His loud voice came as a low rumble to those further away as he laughed out his booming laugh.
Cynebur turned as hearing Céolswith's voice and smiled, offering her a small hail. "How are you Sixfinger?"
Céolswith grinded her teeth some before nodding, "Alright..." She glances over toward Cynebur after comment, scoffing some, "Better... I managed to sleep finally..."
Cynebur says, 'You did? That is good, healer gave you some powder?'
Advancing a step to her, head tilted downward and lightly Régnwald patted the hilt of Nægling that hung at his belt of supple leather. He swung his gaze from Céolswith to Cynebur, apparently not understanding what she meant; though he let her grim quip have its moment. He said 'Eh, sixfingers?'
Céolswith shook her head, humming, "No... just tired..." Her brow raises at Régnwald's comment. With a frown, she lifts her left hand, showing him her injury, "I hope that is not a name that will stay with me..."
Torwiga looked up at the voices coming from above, curious to whom they belonged to other than Céolswith. He turned, moving through the crowd and standing a head higher than some as he advanced up the slopes of the cave. He nodded and smiled to those around on the way up, offering a few "Westhu hal" and "Yea, yea!" around to those who asked him questions.
Régnwald flashed a glance at her injured hand, the dogged fatigue that clung to his eyes, now served to harden features, hazel-green in his eyes glowing with a hint of worry. ''I'm... sorry about that.'' he dared to say, turning his gaze skyward ''Why's it always you though?'' he mused under his straw-coloured, unruly beard.
Céolswith crossed her arms as her jaw jutts. Her brow knotted before she muttered under her breath. Her next words came out harshly, "I would have liked to seen you both try and get the oil that a fool left at the tavern... What did you both do?" She threw her arms up before turning to storm down, speaking words rarely heard from her.
Cynebur stood up, leaving her shield on her bedroll together with quiver filled with just made ash javelins. In her under-armor, padded protection that was under chainmail that protected her together with plate parts. Shieldmaiden smiled to child that fell asleep at corner of her bedrolls before Céolswith stormed off.
Torwiga watched Ceolswith walk past with his brow raised as she goes, he looked over towards the two that caused her to storm away. Up he raised onto the platform to his full height, offering a nod towards them as he spoke out in his deep voice. "Westhu hal, Æthelwigend and Scieldmægden."
Cynebur kneels and pulls orphan on her bedroll again, and tucks her in, pushing bags toward the edge of platform so child would not fall off. "She is hurt, and there is no healing medicines."
The captain couldn't mask the expression of surprise that cracked in his face, he looked around for a moment, then turned to eye Cynebur, albeit saying naught first.. But before he could see the matter, his eyes landed upon the large Eorling. He merely nodded at first, then taking that moment to study the man, his brows raised ''You're Torwiga!'' it was spoken loud; albeit still with all the firmness of a warrior he could muster. He strode over to him and then clapped a hand heavily upon the shoulder ''What are you doing here?''
Cynebur got up again, and greeted Torwiga the Champion, with hail. Then smirks as saying to Régnwald "You sound like one of women that cheer at his fights."
Cynebur frowns and adds. "Sir."
Céolswith continued down, cursing still. She came upon a sack, kicking it in frustration before grunting in pain, forgetting that they held weapons in them. She shouted at spying eyes before leaving the cave.
Torwiga raised up one of his large arms and slapped his hand down upon his shoulder, giving a firm squeeze and tales were told by children that his grip could crush helms and skulls. "Yea, I am Torwiga. Cempa of the Mark. Me and a few riders from Harwick set out to try and aid Stangard, and we ended up fighting them in the tower though we were pushed back. I stumbled across a scout, and he pointed me this way. I have come to help."
Régnwald would scoff at Cynebur in a friendly manner ''Oh, don't you start...'' he returned his attention to the man ''Yeah, 'tis good to see you.'' he clapped him on the shoulder once more before stealing a glance from Cynebur, hearing the sounds down in the cave ''What's wrong?''
Cynebur waved of with hand. "I dont know."
Torwiga looked down in the direction of the shouting, pulling his arms back and folding them over his broad chest. "Hrm. It seems my help is needed sooner than thought, yea?" He grinned slightly, before his stern expression appeared again. "I will go speak with her. When I came to Stangard not long ago me and her got on well."
Cynebur smirked and looked down to hide the smirk but said nothing.
Régnwald nodded silently, continuing after a while ''You came to aid Stangard?'' he eyed him a beat then ''I rode with a small party to scout and see if there's anyone to be saved, but the place reeks of dead. When did you come? ...How many spears?'' his questions continued like this until he paused, uttering a faint sigh.
Torwiga said, 'I set off from Harwick three nights ago. I fought two days ago, and I arrived here late last night. Only twelve of us set out from Harwick, and only myself and two others managed to escape with our lives.'
Cynebur listened intently now, as that was her now only interest. "Good to see you here. We are leaving tommorow toward Forlaw trough High Knolls. If bridge is still in one shape.
Torwiga said, 'Then I shall ride with you.'
Régnwald cast his eyes to the muddy, wet ground, ruefully and hissing under his breath a while. ''And the bridge? You can't say me you crossed that by sword-work, nay.'' he shook his head in disbelief ''Found another pathway to cross the river, eh?'' he assumed, fiercely eyeing him; albeit the fierceness was not for the man but the ill deed that took place.
Cynebur said, 'Yes, the bridge is apperently taken with hefty force by the word of scouts.'
Torwiga said, 'There is more than one way to cross the river, and the scouts of Aldor Harding know them well.'
Cynebur said, 'Then where is Aldor Harding with his three éoreds?'
''He had spent his last word to us, that we're alone.'' spoke Régnwald with a solemn air about him
Torwiga muttered out something to himself, "Though the scout who led us took an arrow to his eye..." He then looked up and spoke out, viewing his own thoughts. "No point to empty all your éoreds and leave a burgh easy to burn."
Cynebur shook her head "One éored could deal with easterlings, what kind of Aldor leaves his folk alone to die? Where is Théoden King now?
Torwiga did not respond for he did not know the answer, though a look of anger took to his face and burned in his eyes.
Cynebur gathered her hand in fist and the rough hands whitened from the anger. "I will not have this anymore, I shall ride to Edoras at the end of this. Théoden King will have to pay blotgeld to this people. His people."
Régnwald stood tall and firm, teeth bared back in a silent snarling grimace, he spoke naught over the comments the pair had spent until now ''Harding gave us his word, for good or ill, yet he held to it.'' he firmed his jaw, swinging a grim look between them ''Thanes of each and every burgh in Eastemnet are fighting their own war.'' it was spoken loud, and clear.
Torwiga raised up high, looking tall and proud like the Eorlings on the tapestries in the great mead-halls. His voice came out deep and loud, "Stangard is lost and there is no point retaking and rebuilding. Théoden King knows this. There is stronger safety under the care of other Thanes."
Cynebur moved her angered look to Régnwald "He gave you death sentence. You think they will reward you for fleeing with ceorlfolc? That you will lead éored of any mark after this? This is what they have been waiting for. "
The captain allowed his head to hang for a moment, taking in the gravity of a point already known. Sucking in a deep breath, once again the bearded chin jutted out, split by a faint, rueful smile. "I do not forget it friends, I count on it, but when I fight the bigger picture is the last thing on my mind." his hand relevantly patted the sword's hilt now, stepping back and straightening his word-hoard unlocked: "My thoughts are the enemy to my front, and if I'll gut him with a tearing lunge or take his face open on the backswing." He turned, looking between the pair as he hovered there "My thoughts are to my companions at my side, are they still on their feet, are they holding their own, have they taken wounds..." A small, sad smile now cracked across the man's scarred, bearded features. "In there somewhere, I also focus on keeping myself alive, and once it is all done and all that is left is to lay exhausted, amazed to be alive..." He bowed his head now, once more turning to leave the cave "That is when I think of the grand scheme of things, now it's my turn upon the watch.''
Cynebur shook her head at his speech but she smiled "I mostly dont know what you mean when you speak, my friend. But I agree with thee."
Torwiga said, 'Hrm. I will think of my words carefully, for I think similar but my thoughts yet differ. I will go and find the Quartermaster and try to calm her down.' He nodded his head stoutly, before he turned and strides off down the slope and left the cave.
Régnwald spared Cynebur a glance, his only other movement being to once again scoff at her. After a faint bow of his head, he took his leave after Cempa.
