I Got No Strings On Me

As Voah began to explain how to infiltrate the war camp under the cover of darkness, Gonyaul looked out over the gathering of Ozaniae galvanized by a common purpose. He sighed with a huff of sadness. It was amazing what people could do and it was disappointing what they usually did instead.

All these individuals here due to a compulsion for power, maybe not even their own, or a desire to have what was not theirs. Or, the flip side, they were having to amass power to stop other groups from doing those things to them. In either scenario it would end the same, blood, sweat and tears. There would be families and children torn asunder and raised broken respectively.

He shook his head. He had enough of this nonsense. It was obvious Malacost’s zealous fervor for the agenda of the Pillars and Inquisition. What confused him is why Voah was blindly regressing back to such things to the point of folly; in his humble opinion.

He began to slowly move backwards and away. He was going to turn around and head back to city. He would go alone if need be. Moving down into a belly of a war camp was not wise. Sticking around longer than they already had was flirting with disaster.

“I sorry” he apologized to them both, mainly to Voah. “This no smart to do. I return and beg both to come with before too late.” Relationship, or not, he was not going to be pulled by his heart strings like a puppet into blatant drama and trouble.

He looked back to them with a welcoming hand. If they followed, it would be wonderful. If not, he would leave on his own and make use of the irrigated fields to provide even more cover in the night on his way back.