[BlueInTheShell]

Deadwaltz didn't need to much of an effort to keep up with Wisp, the larger woman's long tree trunks called legs keeping the hurried stretch with relative ease, the woman draped in her cloak while she stoppped every now and then to glance upwards towards the sky, sniffing the air and huffing. No scent of monsters in the air. No sulfurous odors of evil afoot. It was going to be the most boring of travels, wasn't it? At least the mist in the air was refreshing and cool; each step Waltz occasionally opening her mouth to gulp at the moisture in the air, and exhaling with delight. "Ah miss this kinda weather in the North. Too cold down here. It makes mah ass sweat too much." Waltz whined.

Christoval snickered and soldiered on with both two bags, weights, and whatever else he had mustered and hidden in his own person, the boy following behind Percival and soaked with perspiration already. Not that he was complaining. If anything, it earned him the rights to actually complain when he needed to, and he looked over at the Healer, and then towards Waltz, before addressing the former. "I find that hard to believe. You seem like the sort of guy who would wanna be wrapped up in those arms." He said, voice just audible enough for Percival to hear, and not Waltz. For fear she'd take him literally. Christoval looked down at his own boots and mimicked Kastivi, lifting his feet up on top of his own burdens. Any tips he could muster from others would help, right?

Wisp stopped when Kastivi addressed her meddling with the dead, and shot herself over towards the daughter, before offering out a hand and smiling. "Disrespectful? Is that the word you're looking for? Or was it dangerous. The dead are the least dangerous you can come across. If you want dangerous, I'll have you come with me when we rest for the night." She croned, narrowing her eyes at Kastivi. "There are worse things to come across. The soul of a murderer just asking to be heard isn't one of them." She paused and looked around, her anger and nasty look growing worse and worse. "And look, you've delayed us a few precious seconds. That's all it takes for an arrow to pierce the throat of my apprentice. Would you like to address the guild for that one if it ever happened?"

Christoval moved towards the two, and placed a hand on Wisp, getting her attention, and then giving her a small, gentle push towards the direction she had been going initially, huffing and pouting. "We can't bicker now. We just started, Wisp. Can we just keep marching?"

"Fine."