Galli's guess was right. He was limited to the pace of his two human legs, and once he was out the gate, he was in no particular rush to get to the nearest town. He had plenty of light in the day to make the trip and shack up.

So, still deep in the wooded section of the east-facing road that would eventually wind southward in the days ahead, it wouldn't take too much time for Thistle to catch up. Caught in the dappled lighting, some of the rays of light caught the metal of his pauldrons, making it easier to spot him in the distance. If the large sword on his back wasn't giveaway enough.

Guts, upon hearing the hooves of a single horse behind him, feels the urge to keep his hand near the weapon's hilt now that its familiar comfort was close by again. But he knows full well that there's only one thing that could be coming up from that direction, so he ignores the instinct.

Stopping in his tracks, he turns to meet Lashan and the geldling with an annoyed look on his face - annoyed that he'd been caught so easily.

"Who told you? Was it that baker girl?"

He wouldn't be surprised. She looked like a chatter. Galli was better at keeping secrets than that. He'd be disappointed if it was her.

Guess he'd be forced into saying some sort of goodbye, after all.