"Not really..." Frifth murmured. After it had been going that fast he expected them to 'want a ride'!? No, Frifth still wanted to run. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was, trying not to shake in terror, but not trying to walk, since he didn't think his legs would cooperate.
Well, this was odd. Ash didn't seem to be the sickest in the infirmary anymore. She frowned, struggling to move herself into a more comfortable position on the bed without touching the pickpocket. In the end she gave up, stretching out beside him. He didn't stir, and again she wondered what was up with him. He'd seemed fine when she'd met him, but there was something wrong.
Rogues didn't stick together; she wondered why they travelled in a group- particularly why the other two chose to stay. Wouldn't he slow them down? She lay back against the head of the bed, continuing her contemplation. Maybe they were friends from before the divide...





