With the sun beginning to cast long shadows over the cosy clearing their little troupe had set up camp in for the night, the familiar faces of their friends were beginning to retire to their tents. The air carried the smoky scent of the dying fire and the distant sound of water lapping at the shore where the last dishes were being washed. One or two lingered to finish up conversations from the day, their voices softening as weariness claimed them, but soon even they began to filter away for the night.

The days were spent full of survival, after all. They never knew when their next life threatening episode of their adventure was going to be, and a well rested mind was the first step in coming out with ones head still attached to their shoulders. In Gale's opinion, at least. The cool evening breeze carried a chill that made him pull his robes a little tighter around himself.

It was just him and his love left at the fireside, the blaze beginning to die along with the light from the sun. "Ready for bed, my love?" He offered, though he made no move to rise just yet. The crackle of burning wood filled the silence between them as his question that followed made him pause. Sleeping in his tent. Ah, not a thing they did commonly. While Gale trusted his love with his life, it wouldn't be for the first time if he woke up to his lover trembling, staring off into the distance with eyes gone dark and dangerous, furiously fighting down those innate, murderous instincts.