Tarsuria, Year of Severus, 18, I.R., the 70th day of Spring, Camp Lionclaw, Great Dunes

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It was the first time he had seen his ever-smiling friend Ghwynmyr lashed out in a fit of rage and frustration. A weird occurrence that he would remember for the rest of his life. At that point, Urfaal had no idea why his dwarven friend had gone mad over the sudden attacks that happened about a week ago on the island near the Ardantean Strait.

Ghwynmyr hit his hand hard on the table once more, its force made some of the wooden soldiers bounce and fell off the table. The commanders surrounding the table were obviously appalled by such action of a lowly freed slave, and it was obviously clear in the way they glared at his friend what they were about to do with him for his insubordination.

Afraid of that thought, Urfaal, tried to diffuse the situation by patting his friend's back and whispered as much as he could asking him to calm down. But the dwarf wasn't having any of it. He simply ignored his warnings and continued his tirade of insults and accusations towards the angry Principalians.

Urfaal was running out of options. The last thing he wanted was to lose another friend over something that they could've prevented in the first place. Desperate to stop his friend, he did the unthinkable. He slapped Ghwynmyr on the back on his head to make him stop.

The slap rang across the tent. The sharp stinging pain on he felt on his palm only proved how hard he has to hit his friend for him to finally stop and slowly turn around. His friend was speechless and confused as he looked at him searching for answers on why he slapped the back of his head. Urfaal took a deep breath and got the courage to finally tell his friend about the tension inside the room.

"What are you doing?!" He began as he started shaking Ghwynmyr's shoulders. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Look at the people here! They're very eager to kill you because of what your—"

"You better listen to the beastman, dwarf." Commander Ordaeneus commented. "He's giving you the wisest advice to keep your dense head attached in that thick neck of yours!" The commander calmly pointed at him before gesturing at him to keep silent.

"Please calm down." Urfaal said as calmly as he could. "Why are you doing this?!" He asked.

Ghwynmyr looked at him with eyes piercing his soul. It wasn't rage anymore at that point, it felt like a look of disappointment and frustration. His friend's gaze bothered him that he had to avert his eyes from meeting his. He heard Ghwynmyr sigh.

"Tis all I want tah say." His voice trembled. "If ders any punishment fer what I did, I will nay run away." He immediately bowed and stormed out of the tent.

Seeing how disrespectful Ghwynmyr was, Urfaal tried his best to apologize and stick his neck out for his friend. He bowed as low as he could while offering calming words to the angered commanders.

"I…I would like to apologize for my friend—" He began.

"You don't have to." Lord Prestonheim answered. "I want Commander Crovar to explain what just happened there. So, please see yourself on your way out." He pointed the exit to Urfaal.

Urfaal immediately bowed and rushed his way out to the exit. As he went outside the tent, he saw Ghwynmyr walking back to their camp. He ran over to him and tried calling out his name, but the dwarf simply walked faster and ignored his call.

Guilty and frustrated on how his friend was treating him he went in front of the dwarf and blocked his way.

"Listen," Urfaal began. "I know you're upset about what I did but I am just trying to save your neck!"

"Savin' me neck?!" Ghwynmyr mocked. "Tis nay need fer savin'! I just told them me two gold coins!" He clicked his tongue and tried to pass through his long legs.

"I don't understand!" Urfaal answered. "W-what do you—"

"Tis means mindya own business!" He pinched Urfaal's inner leg to make him flinch and pass through his blockade. "Oh, and next time, grow pair will yah?!" He shouted before reiterating it into a gesture.

Urfaal was left behind confused and in pain from the pinch, but he still couldn't understand why his friend was uncharacteristically jittery and stressed out. It took a few times to figure out his way back to their camp. After a few winding paths and a few more dead ends he finally reached his camp just in time for lunch.

His stomach grumbled as he sat on the circle just as the plates were being pass. After a bland meal of boiled salt water and meat jerky, he tried looking for his friend who was obviously absent for the meal. He looked around their camp but to no avail.

A few moments later, he saw Commander Crovar entering their camp and tried to ask him if he had seen Ghwynmyr.  The young commander shook his head. Urfaal thanked him and tried to look for his friend elsewhere.

"I would give him time, if I were you." The young commander said.

"What do you mean?" Urfaal turned back to the young Commander.

"You know how affected he was with what happened a week ago." Commander Crovar sighed. "I think it would be right to give him some space and let him collect himself."

"W-what I did there…" Urfaal bit his lip. "I-inside the tent…I shouldn't have done that." His voice trembled, holding back the tears welling in his eyes.

"You know, for a beastman, you're very emotional and caring." Commander Crovar smiled to him and patted his arm. "I understand that you were trying to save his ass off. He knows that too, but for now give him time to collect himself." The young commander nodded at him and continued his way to his tent.

Urfaal decided to take Commander Crovar's advice and went back to his tent. He entered his tent feeling the sweltering heat of the sun. He decided to take off his shirt and laid down on his bed contemplating on what he did. He started blankly at the ceiling, trying to look for a better way how he could've handled the situation earlier. His thoughts faded quickly as the day went on. His eyes slowly closed, and he drifted to sleep.

Urfaal woke up from a pleasant dream he can't recall. He opened his eyes and felt his chest lighten, as if a heavy weight was lifted from his chest. Tears rolled from his eyes, and it still baffled him what he dreamt that made him feel the way he did.

"Glad da yer awake." A familiar voice greeted him.

He looked down and saw Ghwynmyr sitting on the ground looking at the ceiling. The light was becoming sparse, as it slowly dimmed inside the tent.

"What hour is it?" Urfaal asked. "I have slept too much, aren't I?"

"Indeed, yah do." Ghwynmyr stifled his laughter.

Urfaal remained silent and couldn't help but crack a smile on his face before realizing that his friend seemed to be waiting for him to get up. 

"Ghwynmyr…" He sighed. "I…want to—" He fumbled for the words he wanted to say.

"Tis I should've apologized." Ghwynmyr interjected. "I got too mad fer me to think straight."

Urfaal stood up from his bed and approached his friend. "No, it should be me apologizing for not understanding."

"Understanding?" The dwarf scoffed. "I haven't told yah anything fer yah to understand. But tis much appreciated." He reached out his hand asking for Urfaal to shake it.

The beastman smiled and shook his friend's hand. "Come on, we should take a drink if you're still willing to tell me that story."

"Ha! Now, yer speakin' me language!" The dwarf laughed and punched his leg. "Come on! Tis about time a tell yah dat stor—"

"I am afraid it had to wait." Commander Crovar suddenly entered the room. "Lord Prestonheim calls for both of you."

"Is this about what happened earlier." Urfaal asked.

"Yes." The young commander nodded.

"Are we in trou—" Urfaal tried asking.

"I am not certain, but I doubt it has something to do with that." Commander Crovar immediately answered him.. "Come now, there's no time better than now!" He smiled.

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