[Q1] The Chains that Bind Us

A lump had begun in his throat, one that made it hard to swallow past, much less speak around. Their words were biting, and all he had attempted to do was help. It would have been childish to refuse to go further and sort through his feelings on the matter, not to mention dangerous and time wasting. Instead he simply turned down the hunting path, keeping the fog with them. He was no one's keeper, the phrase he'd come familiar with over the years of his research in the repository. And it made him sick. But he couldn't afford a fight with the man, and simply let it stand, even if the rolling discomfort was creeping up on him.

What did push him into silence was the biting words thrown at him from the mouth of a dragon. He stopped and looked back at her. Eyes tired forlorn before continuing on his way down the path. It did him no good to try and speak sense to her, she'd chosen her target and it seemed he was set to be another's whipping boy yet again. Instead, he turned around long enough to sign No, I don't know the rules of this game, and I'm trying to. This is not the same game that it was 4,000 years ago when I was a slave. I want to go home like the rest of us. Collars off, belongings and weapons retrieved. Let's not complicate it. his signs were small, kept close to his body, the whole of his countenance pained and quiet. 

If nothing else, the trail that they followed lead them through to the edge of the main camp with its many tents. At that hour, most slept it seemed, leaving only a few around the fire keeping guard. So long as they were quiet, they might be able to simply find what they were looking for, and leave. We're looking for the slave master, he'll have our keys. If our belongings remain, they've been distributed or cast aside. Let's hope they're cast aside. were his final signs before the small flame on his palm was extinguished, stepping out into the shadows of the tent to begin their search for the slavemaster. 

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Notes: The stress of everything has dropped Faelyn non-verbal and he will likely remain so for the rest of the thread. 

Summary: Feels sick to his stomach over being referred to as "Arvaarad" and heads down the hunter's path pointed out by Jorah. Gives Kat a tried look for er to interoperate as she sees fit. Informs the group that he doesn't know the rules to this new game and his 'voice' is small and pained. Gets them to the edge of camp, makes note that they're looking for the slave master, and that hopefully their things were seen as useless and cast aside, but some things they may have to go looking for. Sets out into the camp, staying to the shadows.